


Finish What You Started

by TheFandomFilms



Series: I Want It All [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asshole!Steve, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Car Sex, Choking, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Light BDSM, M/M, Making Out, Mirror Sex, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre serum Bucky, Rough Sex, Sex Talk, Slow Burn, Smut, Switching, Top Steve Rogers, power bottom bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-11-23 15:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 133,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20894072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomFilms/pseuds/TheFandomFilms
Summary: Bucky works at Rogers Inc. under his boss, Steve Rogers, who is the biggest asshole in all of New York City. Bucky hates his guts, but cannot deny how handsome Mr. Rogers is. That does not change how Bucky thinks about him or the fact that his boss treats everyone below him like crap. If only he could keep his mouth closed, Mr. Rogers would be perfect.





	1. First Touch

"Shit," Bucky mumbled to himself. He knew the moment he woke up this morning that his day was going to be ass. Sitting in his car, he tried to peer around the large SUV in front of him. What the hell is the problem? Bucky had been stuck in basically the same spot on this forsaken freeway for just under ten minutes now. And that was ten minutes more than he had to spare. Bucky looked at the clock again, leaning his head back on the seat and letting out a long sigh, thinking back on the debacle that had begun the day.

Bucky had woken to the blaring of that terrible default sound of the alarm clock on his iPhone. He groaned, burying his head into the pillow, and reached over to fumble with the phone. Finally, it fell silent, but he knew it would go off again within a matter of minutes, knowing full well that he set multiple alarms for this very reason.

He eventually sat up in bed, but then remembered the day that he had yesterday, which he was almost positive he had forgotten. His boss, Steve Rogers, had been in a particularly nasty mood and had spent the majority of his day barking out orders and slamming his door. The man was a first-class jerk. He had taken over for Bucky’s previous boss nine months earlier and was just as big a pig now as he was the day he started. Usually, it didn't bother Bucky all that much, he hadn't gotten into his current position at the company by having thin skin. But that day he had been wearing his brand new suit, a huge shopping splurge and Bucky was feeling particularly good about himself. But, of course, Mr. Roger’s tantrum had Bucky’s good mood diminished and he was ready to hire a hitman by the time six o'clock came around.

Bucky somehow managed to pull himself out of his internal rambling and get himself ready for the day. Of course, the coffee maker died, and his keys had fallen into the couch cushion, but somehow, Bucky managed to make it to his car only running a few minutes behind. That was of course until the accident on the highway.

It took almost an hour for Bucky to finally make it past the wreck that was blocking multiple lanes of traffic, squeezing the entire freeway down to a bottleneck, where everyone had to pass through in a single lane. And by the time he made it to the office, Bucky was officially an hour late.

Bucky knew he was going to get his ass handed to him for this, even though he usually prided himself on always being at least fifteen minutes early for work, and had never been late once. That was until today.

Mr. Steve Rogers. Bucky rolled his eyes as the name passed through his mind; he couldn't stand the man. He was the most self-righteous, pompous jerk Bucky had ever met in his life. He had listened to all of the women in the office whisper and giggle about him because even Bucky had to admit, Mr. Rogers was drop-dead gorgeous. But Bucky had common sense and he realized early in life that beauty is only skin deep, and ugly goes bone-deep. He’d had his fair share of unpleasant men in the past few years; dated a few in high school and college. But this one took the cake. Beautiful bastard.

"Well, well, Mr. Barnes, and what time is it in your little world today?" he asked in a condescending tone as Bucky stepped into the office. He was standing in the doorway of his own office across the room from Bucky, looking as gorgeous and arrogant as usual. He was at least 6'2", and had a body like a marble sculpture. Bucky had made the mistake of visiting the hotel gym during a convention the first month they worked together and walked in to find him sweaty and shirtless next to the treadmill. That image was forever burned into Bucky’s brain. But of course, Mr. Rogers had to ruin it all by opening his mouth, "It's nice to see you finally taking an interest in your physical fitness, Mr. Barnes." the scumbag had said. He had a face that any male model would kill for and the most incredible hair Bucky had ever seen on a man. Sex hair. That's what the girls downstairs called it, and according to them, it earned its name.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers. There was an accident on the freeway, and I got here as soon as I could. It won't happen again, sir," the brunet said in a polite tone with just a hint of bite, even though Bucky’s fingers were practically twitching with the desire to gouge out those pretty blue eyes of his.

"You're right, it won't," he replied with that cocky smile that made Bucky’s stomach both turn and leap at the same time. If only he would keep his mouth shut, he'd be perfect. A piece of duck tape across the mouth would do the trick and then he wouldn't mind the daydreams he would have about them; in the supply room, on his desk, on Mr. Rogers’s desk, sprawled out on satin sheets….but Bucky was getting carried away with himself, there was no way on Earth that Mr. Rogers was into men. "And just so you don't allow this incident to slip your memory, I want that assignment I put on your desk this morning completed and on my desk by six. Then you're going to make up the hour lost this morning making your presentation in the conference room with me."

Bucky’s eyes widened as Mr. Rogers’s voice broke him out of his now long-forgotten thoughts, and he watched the blond turn away without another word, slamming his office door behind him. What. A. Scumbag. He knew damn well that a presentable ad campaign could not be done in… Bucky looked at his phone. Great, seven and a half hours, if he skipped his lunch. He sat down at his desk and turned on his computer and mumbling under his breath as Bucky opened the file folder on his desk. Well, at least it was a simple shoe ad, not too hard to think of a tagline for. But still, his boss had given him an unrealistic time limit.

As everyone else began filtering out for lunch, Bucky sat at his desk with his coffee and bag of Ritz Bits he had grabbed from the vending machine on the way back from the restroom. Normally, Bucky would bring his lunch or leave with the other assistants to grab something, but time was not on his side today.

Just as he was grumbling about malnutrition, Bucky heard the outer office door open. Looking up he smiled as his friend Natasha walked in. Natasha had worked for Rogers Inc. almost as long as Bucky had. She was sweet and kind and one of his favorite people here. "Ready for lunch, Bucky?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

"Natasha, I'm sorry, I know I promised, but this has been the day from hell. There is absolutely no way I can make it." he looked at her apologetically, as her smile turned into a smirk.

"Day from hell, or boss from hell?" she leaned down and snickered. Natasha knew all about Steve "the snake" Rogers. He was a living legend in this building. No one argued with him if they wanted to keep their job.

"You've got the last part right," Bucky replied, letting out a big sigh. "Look I am absolutely swamped. You guys go on ahead without me."

"But…" She tried to argue.

"Natasha, there's just no way. Even if I work clear till seven, I still don't think I'll be able to get this finished in time. I really am sorry and I promise to catch you guys next time."

"Alright. But don't you let that moron boss you around. He's lucky to have you and he knows it. We all know who really holds all the cards here, Bucky." Natasha smiled and left the office.

This was going to be a long day. As Bucky bent under his desk to retrieve a folder from his briefcase, he felt someone approach. Not looking up, Bucky spoke, "Look, Natasha, I told you…" he stopped when he finally glanced up and saw that it wasn't Natasha standing there. His cheeks flushed red and Bucky sat back up straight in his desk chair. "I'm sorry Mr. Rogers I…" but he cut Bucky off.

"Mr. Barnes, since you obviously have time to visit with your co-workers as well as completing the Nike project," he said as he looked down at Bucky. "I need you to also run down to accounting and retrieve the profit analysis for the third quarter. Do you think you can manage that?"

Bucky sighed heavily and looked down at the heaps of work he still had to do, trying to rein in his temper, then moved his eyes up to Mr. Rogers to meet his blazing blue eyes. "With all due respect, Mr. Rogers. I am only one person and…"

"It wasn't a request. That will be all, Mr. Barnes," he cut Bucky off again, gazing at Bucky for a moment with a clenched jaw, and then turned on his heel to saunter out of the office and back to his. Bucky rolled his eyes and grabbed his blazer from the back of the chair, and began making his way to accounting.

When Bucky returned, he knocked on the office door but there was no response. Hmm. Reaching out, Bucky turned the knob slightly, locked. The jerkface probably stepped out for lunch while leaving Bucky here to do his footwork. He shoved the manila folder through the mail slot in his door roughly, hoping the papers scattered everywhere and that Mr. Rogers would have to get down and sort them himself. Would serve him right.

Then again, as an afterthought, Bucky hoped not. Knowing him, Mr. Rogers would call him into that hole to do it while he watched; taking more time from Bucky’s already impossible project.

\---

Bucky raced down the darkened hall of the now-empty building; the presentation materials clutched haphazardly in his arms as he glanced down at his watch. 7:20. Holy shit, would nothing go right for him today? Mr. Rogers was going to have his neck. Bucky was twenty minutes late. Mr. Rogers hated late. Late was not a word found in the Steve Rogers jerkhead Dictionary. Along with heart, kindness, compassion or a damn “thank you”.

A simple job, that's all he asked. Make some copies, and bind some documents. It should have been a piece of cake. In and out. But, no. Two hours. It took two hours. And now, there he was, running through the empty halls of the corporate building, racing towards the executioner. Breathe Bucky. He can smell fear.

As Bucky neared the conference room, he tried pointlessly to calm his ragged breathing. Maybe Mr. Rogers would be running late, and was still in his office working. Yeah, right. Bucky passed his boss’s office and his fears were confirmed. The door was open, the desk lamp the only illumination in the room, and there sat his large leather chair. Empty. Fuck.

Bucky slowed to a walk as he approached the conference room, dim light escaping from beneath the closed door. He was definitely in there, waiting for Bucky. Carefully, he attempted to smooth his hair and clothing while holding onto the bundle of documents in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Bucky’s breath caught and a small gasp escaped his lips at the tone of his voice. He didn't sound angry, it was worse. He sounded bored. Bored of waiting. Bucky was sure this is what they mean by the fight or flight reflex.

Straightening his shoulders, Bucky walked into the dimly lit space. The room was large, one side filled with floor to ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the New York cityscape eighteen stories below. In the center stood a large heavy wood conference table, and seated at the head of the table, facing him, was Mr. Rogers.

He sat there, his suit jacket hanging on the chair behind him, his tie loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his fingers tented in front of him. A look of total boredom set on his perfect little face. His eyes were boring into Bucky’s, but he said nothing.

"I apologize, Mr. Rogers," he said, his voice wavering with his still labored breathing, "There was a mix up with th-" he stopped. Excuses wouldn't help his situation. And besides, he wasn't going to let Mr. Rogers blame him for something he had no control over. With his newfound bravery in place, Bucky lifted his chin and walked over to the table.

Without meeting his gaze, he sorted through the papers and placed the presentation on the wooden table before them. "Are you ready for me to begin, Mr. Rogers?" he asked, not trying to hide the venom in his voice.

He looked up at Bucky, not responding, his blue eyes piercing Bucky’s brave front. This would be a lot easier if he wasn't so beautiful. Bucky hated himself for noticing his looks. Of course, he was gorgeous, that's how he got away with being such a gigantic prick to everyone. He might be sexy as hell, but one word out of that mouth usually took care of the problem.

Still not saying anything, he gestured his hand to the documents before him, urging Bucky to continue. Bucky cleared his throat and began the presentation. As he moved through the different phases of the campaign, the blond didn't say a word.

Bucky was leaning over the table, gesturing towards a set of photographs when he felt it. His boss's hand lifted slowly from his lap and pressed gently into Bucky’s lower back before sliding down, settling on his ass.

"The print company can have this do-" he stopped mid sentence, his breath caught in his throat, and he froze. A million thoughts raced through his mind in that instant. In the nine months Bucky had worked for him, the blond had never intentionally touched Bucky. This was most definitely intentional.

The heat from his hand, burned through Bucky’s slacks and into his skin. Every muscle in his body tensed, as a shudder ran through Bucky. What the hell was he doing? Bucky’s brain screamed at him to push his hand off, to tell him to never touch him again, but his body had other ideas.

Bucky let out the breath he’d been holding, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. At least a minute had to have passed, and neither of them said anything, their breathing and the muted noise of the city below the only sounds echoing in the still air of the conference room.

"Turn around Mr. Barnes," he said quietly. The sound of his voice broke the silence; Bucky gasped silently and closed his eyes at the sound. He straightened his back, eyes facing forward. Slowly Bucky turned, Mr. Rogers's hand moving with his movement, sliding to Bucky’s waist. He looked down to meet his eyes, and he looked intently back at Bucky. More silence.

He could see Mr. Rogers’s chest rising and falling; each breath deeper than the last. His thumb began to move, slowly sliding back and forth; his eyes never leaving Bucky’s. He was waiting for Bucky to stop him; there had been plenty of time for the brunet to say something. But as much as he hated him, he knew he couldn't say those words. Bucky had never felt this way. Every muscle was tensed in anticipation. Bucky could feel the heat emanating from his hand, coursing through his body, and the way his cock slowly began to harden just the slightest bit.

With his eyes locked to Bucky’s, he began to slowly slide his hand lower. His fingers ran down Bucky’s thigh, curling his smooth hand around it. As his hand rose up Bucky’s leg, the brunet’s body trembled with the power of the rage and lust battling inside himself. He hated him more than he'd known was possible, but right now, he hated himself more. How could he let his body react like this? He wanted to slap him in the face; but more than that, he wanted him to keep going. His dick was continuing to fill, and he could feel the hardness increase as those fingers inched closer. He reached the top of Bucky’s thigh, before moving, without hesitation, grazing over and then groping Bucky’s erection through his slacks. The younger man’s eyes closed as pleasure coursed through him at the rougher touch. When he looked down at Mr. Rogers, his eyes were wild with lust, and beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

"Fuck," he growled quietly. His eyes closed and he seemed to be waging the same internal battle as Bucky was. He glanced down at Mr. Rogers’ lap and could see him hard, straining against the fabric of his pants, just like Bucky was. Huh, so Steve Rogers is into men? Bucky’s quick thought concluded that he must swing both ways, though more commonly seen with women. With his eyes still closed he withdrew his hand and migrated his finger up to Bucky’s belt. The blond then peered up at him, fury and lust in his eyes. In one movement, he undid Bucky’s belt and fly before pushing his hand into the brunet’s pants to wrap his hand around the younger man’s cock. He squeezed roughly before stroking a few times and swiping his thumb over the wetness gathered at the tip.

His hand was gone before Bucky even had time to register it all completely, his eyes snapping open as he pulled his hips roughly, lifting Bucky up onto the cold table after pushing Bucky’s pants down. Bucky pushed them off the rest of the way before Mr. Rogers was spreading his legs in front of him. Bucky felt the heat spread rapidly on his cheeks as he flushed. Bucky gave an involuntary groan as those fingers returned to stroke him once again. He despised this man and everything he stood for, but his body was betraying him; it craved the touch he was giving, working his body into an animalistic frenzy. Bucky’s head fell back as he leaned back on his elbows, feeling pleasure course in wave throughout his entire being.

But then he stopped, removing his hand from his aching erection and Bucky actually throbbed from the loss. Bucky, embarrassingly enough, actually whimpered as his head flew up to look at him. He sat up quickly, grasping the blond’s tie in one hand and pulling his lips roughly against his own. He even tasted amazing, and Bucky hated that. The brunet bit his lower lip as Bucky’s hands made quick work down to the front of his pants, undoing his belt hastily. "You better be ready to finish what you started, Mr. Rogers."

He growled and his hands returned to Bucky’s body, skin flaring again with heat. He rapidly ripped open Bucky's dress shirt, a few buttons bouncing across the carpet. His hand briefly explored the expanse of the younger man's chest and abdomen before moving lower. His fingers stroked a few times at Bucky’s erection before traveling lower, the pad of his pointer finger grazing over Bucky’s entrance. This lit him up even more, forcing himself to restrain a buck of his hips as Mr. Rogers circled the ring of muscle with his finger. He pulled away and shoved his hand into his pocket to fish out a bottle of lube. Bucky was willing to bet money that an egotistical asshole like Steve Rogers would always have a condom and lube on him at all times. Before Bucky could finish his thought, the blond was also pulling out a condom out and Bucky would have rolled his eyes had he not been so into the current situation. The younger man finally unfastened his pants and shoved them, along with his boxers to the floor. Bucky reached down and gripped Mr. Rogers’s thick hard length in his hand and squeezed, feeling it pulse against his palm. "Oh, I intend to do more than that, Mr. Barnes."

The way he seethed Bucky’s name should have sent a rush of fury through him, but he only felt one thing right now. Pure, unadulterated lust. Bucky was being pushed down, his back on the conference table, as now lubed fingers returned to probe at him. Bucky had not even noticed the blond open the lube bottle, but he had also been daydreaming pretty heavily. Before he could utter a single word, Bucky felt him beginning to breach him with a single finger. It was on the right side of painful as he pushed his finger deeper. Bucky had a sparing thought about how the man above him was being slow and almost...gentle? He was not being rough anymore, instead being attentive to begin opening Bucky up. The thought dissipated when the brunet remembered who he was dealing with. Steve Rogers was a complete prick, Bucky would not let the fact that he had a single ounce of decency change his view of his boss. Mr. Rogers still treated Bucky and every other co-worker like they were wildly inferior.

He continued to open Bucky up, regaining his rougher touch as he went. Eventually, Bucky was keening slightly and writhing on the conference table as the blond pumped three fingers into him. “Think you are ready to take me?” he asked, tone husky “Look at you, practically begging for it.”  
Bucky was fully intending on a snippy reply, but just as he opened his lips to speak, he removed his fingers to slide home and thrust his long hard cock deep inside of him. "Fuck!" Bucky grunted. The burn from the stretch shooting white hot up his spine before quickly ebbing to a throb.

"That's right," Bucky heard him hiss through clenched teeth, as his hips rapidly slammed against Bucky’s own, driving his cock deep inside. Bucky was helpless and couldn't hold back the moans. "Never been fucked like this before have you? You wouldn't be such a fucking cock tease if you were being properly fucked."

Who did he think he was? And why the hell did it turn Bucky on so much that he was right? Bucky had never had sex anywhere but on a bed, and it never felt like this. His dick felt so damn good buried inside of Bucky, and it awakened things he hadn't even known existed.

"I've had better," Bucky taunted breathlessly, looking up at him through narrowed eyes.

His eyes flared and he pulled out just as the younger man was starting to build an orgasm. He growled at the blond as he let go of Bucky’s waist. At first, he thought he was actually going to leave Bucky this way, until Mr. Rogers grabbed Bucky’s arms and yanked him up off the table and crashed their lips together again. The next thing Bucky felt was the cold window against his ass, and he groaned at the intense contrasts in temperature between it and his skin. He felt like he was on fire, every part of him wanted to feel his rough touch.

"You really shouldn't have said that, Mr. Barnes," he snarled angrily as he pulled away and quickly turned Bucky around, pressing his front against the window and kicking at the brunet’s feet. "Spread your legs. Now!"

He obliged and parted his legs for him, he grabbed Bucky’s waist, pulling him back roughly and essentially impaling Bucky on his cock again. "Fuck!"

"You like that don't you," he sneered, taking Bucky’s earlobe between his teeth and dragging them across the skin of his neck. "Now all of New York can look up here and see you getting fucked, and loving every minute of it. You want them to see you come?"

Bucky groaned in response, unable to form words with each repeated thrust into him, pressing him further against the glass.

"Say it. Do you want to come, James? Answer me or I'll stop and make you suck me off instead," he hissed, driving himself deeper and deeper inside Bucky with every thrust. He was directly grazing and nailing Bucky’s prostate with every pump of his hips like he was a professional. Of course, he had to be good at everything he did. His hand snaked up Bucky’s chest before wrapping around his neck.

"Yes…fuck yes…oh my god!" Bucky finally exclaimed as that hand tightened ever so slightly on his pulse point and windpipe. It was so sudden, that Bucky did not even register it happening until it crashed over him. His entire body quaking from his climax that was rushing over him, as he came untouched and was left gasping for air. When it finally subsided, the blond removed his hand and pulled out of Bucky, spinning him around to face him, his lips meeting Bucky’s again aggressively.

Bucky’s hands found his hair and tugged at fistfuls of it, as their tongues slid against each other. The younger man released one hand and brought it down to his throbbing erection between them and removed the condom to began stroking him briskly, causing his groans to echo in Bucky’s mouth. He pulled away from his lips, staring at him with hooded eyes.

"Your turn," Bucky practically growled, sliding down the glass and taking his entire dick into his mouth. His entire body tensed and he let out a deep moan, as Bucky peered up at him, his palms and forehead resting on the glass, his eyes closed.

"Oh fuck… fuck, fuck!" he shouted, as Bucky finally felt his cock pulse against his lips. He began emptying into his mouth and Bucky swallowed every drop.

Bucky released him from his mouth and he staggered back, falling into the chair, trying to calm his breathing. Bucky stood up, meeting his eyes. The seconds ticked by, neither of them looking away. Without saying a word Bucky moved by briskly to grab his pants, pulled them on hastily and walked out, praying his shaky legs wouldn't betray him.

He grabbed his things from his office and walked to the elevator. Mr. Rogers still hadn't come out, and Bucky almost ran to the elevator praying to God it would get there before he had to face him again.

Bucky couldn't even let himself think about what happened until he was out of here. The doors opened and he pushed the button for the lobby, watching as each floor was counted down. The gold doors opened and he raced out and down the hall. Bucky briefly heard the security guard say something about working late, but he just waved and sped past him.

With each step, his body reminded him of the events of the last hour. As he reached his car Bucky pressed the button on the keys, pulled open the door and collapsed into the safety of the leather seats. He looked up and met his own eyes in the rearview mirror.

What. The. Fuck. Was. That?


	2. Out Of My System

Holy shit. He was so fucking screwed. Steve had been staring at his ceiling since he woke up thirty minutes ago. Hard. Again. And this time was even worse than the two hundred and thirty-four other times he had woken up this way. This time, Steve knew what he was missing.

Nine months. Nine fucking months of morning wood, and endless fantasies about someone he didn't even want. Well, that wasn't completely true. Steve wanted him. He wanted him more than any man he’d ever seen. The big problem was he hated him. Well maybe not…no, Steve hated him. James was one of the biggest assholes he’d ever met.

And James hated Steve too. In all his twenty-eight years, he had never met someone who pushed his buttons like his assistant. James. Well, Mr. Barnes.

Just his name made his dick twitch. Fucking traitor. Steve stared down at his cock. He was the one that got Steve into this mess, to begin with. He rubbed his hands across his face and sat up. What the fuck was he going to do? God, why couldn't he just keep it in his pants? He’s managed it for nine fucking months.

And it had worked. Steve kept his distance, bossed James around, hell, even he’ll admit he'd been an asshole. And then he just lost it. All it took was one moment, sitting in that quiet room, his smell all around Steve and that fucking suit. He snapped.

He leaned over the table, body framed in that new suit and on display. He couldn't do this anymore. Steve was harder than hell and every nerve in his body was screaming to reach out and touch. He just didn't have the fight left.

Steve’s hand moved of its own volition. It reached out for him, ignoring every argument he'd had with himself for almost a year. He said his name. Those stormy blue eyes turned to look at Steve, almost innocently.

His body took over. Eyes meeting. Waiting. ‘Tell me no. Make me stop.’ Steve silently begged James to reject his proceedings. His hand moved. Under the fabric, he was hard just like Steve was. ‘Don't let me do this.’ His brain interjected again. Up, slowly. ‘Stop me.’ His mind was screaming. He undid James’s belt, hand sinking into his pants.

He threw him on the table; his legs open to Steve, as they discarded James’s slacks and boxers. He wrapped his hand around that dick again, and the sound of his pleasure sent a thrill straight to Steve’s aching cock. His mind moved quickly and he wanted desperately to be inside of him. Thrusting himself in and out, hearing him moan and punishing him for making Steve want him so badly.

His mind caught up with his body and he pulled away. James grabbed his tie, pulling Steve to him, telling the blond to finish what he started. His lips crashed into Steve’s, tasting him, taunting him. He was always taunting Steve. The way he looked, the way he smelled, even the way he laughed. Steve needed to be in control now. His hands returned to the brunet and snaked lower to tease his entrance.

Shaky hands came to his belt. Fumbling to open Steve up to him. He wanted this as much as Steve did. Rage boiled in him at that thought. How dare he act every day like Steve was nothing, like he was too good for him? Every single day at work, he was so calm, so cold, and deep down he was just as turned on as Steve was. He felt himself getting even harder, battling the different emotions inside him. His hand gripped Steve, squeezing him hard, and he throbbed at his touch.

Shit. This was getting him nowhere. Steve fucked him last night, hard. It should have been enough. He was sure that if he just had him once, the wanting would be over, and he'd finally have some peace. But there Steve was, in his bed, fucking throbbing like he hadn’t come in weeks. He looked at the clock, and it had only been nine hours. This was just sick. What was he, sixteen?

Closing his eyes, he lay back down and let out a deep breath. Images of him fluttered behind his eyelids.

He was tight and so warm. He continued to pound in and out of him. He was going to fuck James out of himself. Like an exorcism. Rid himself of this demon that had taken hold of his will. Every day he had more power over Steve. He always appeared so prim and proper, but his body haunted his dreams. His dark hair, fluffed up on his head, his fucking haunting eyes, his face, his lips, his body. Stealing Steve’s resolve, bit by bit, every day.

He taunted him, calling him out as the cocktease that he was. But he still mocked Steve, telling him he'd had better. Red-hot anger had surged through the blond. Lust overwhelmed his senses. He would erase every man from his memory. Steve growled, throwing him to the window, ordering him to spread himself for him. He would humiliate him, show the world what he was like. He'd thrusted into him, purging himself of this need, fucking him harder than he'd ever dreamed. The brunet's moans and cries were the sweetest music he’d ever heard. Steve wanted him to say his name. To know that it was him making James feel this way. His muscles began clenching around him, grabbing him, pulling him in. He swore and writhed on the cold glass.

When James kissed him his mind became muddied, with every stroke of his tongue against Steve’s, his body begged for him. His hands in his blond hair, yanking and guiding left him wanting to beg James to touch him. He slid down the glass onto his knees in front of Steve. His hot mouth enveloped him, drawing him in. God, how many times had he imagined the younger man servicing him like this? Steve wanted to fist his hands in his dark hair, but he was paralyzed by the sensation. He was helpless to stop this. He sucked and licked and groaned and when Steve felt his teeth slide against him, he couldn't hold back anymore. His orgasm ripped through him as his come shot down his throat. And then he released me and Steve was left gasping and stumbling and shaken.

So many thoughts crashed through his mind. The things that they had done, the things he still wanted. Steve wanted to taste him, to see if he would be as delicious as he was in his dreams.

He took a quick shower, scrubbing himself roughly as if to remove any trace of him that remained after last night. This was going to stop, this had to stop. Steve Rogers did not act like this. Women and men threw themselves at Steve. He never chased anyone. Ever. He could have anyone he wanted, and he usually did.

But Steve certainly did not fuck around in his office. The last thing he needed was some clingy guy ruining everything. He couldn't allow James to have this control over him. Everything was so much better before Steve knew what he was missing. As torturous as that was, this was a million times worse.

\---

He was making his way into his office when James walked in. The way he had left last night, without a word, Steve figured one of two scenarios awaited him. Either he would be making eyes at him, thinking that last night meant something; that they meant something. Or, he would have Steve’s ass. Literally.

If word got out about what they had done, not only could he lose his job, but everything his friends and Steve had worked for. As much as he hated him though, Steve couldn't see him doing something like that. If there was one thing he had learned about James, it was that he was trustworthy and loyal. He might be a hateful shrew, but the blond didn't think he would throw him to the lions. James had worked for Rogers Inc. since college and was a very valued part of the company for a reason. Even if he was sick of listening to Sam tell Steve how lucky he was that the brunet stuck around.

But he’ll be damned if he didn't completely ignore Steve’s presence.

He glared at James as he hung the jacket on the back of his chair and sat down. When he still didn't acknowledge Steve, he turned and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. Why the fuck was he still affecting Steve this way? Last night should have gotten him out of his system. But there he stood, with his second hard-on of the day, and it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. Shit.

Work. Steve would just focus on work and stop thinking about him. He walked over to his desk and sat down, trying to direct his attention to anything but thoughts of how amazing those lips felt around his cock last night. Not conducive, Rogers, he mentally scolded himself. He flipped open his laptop to begin working on his schedule for the day.

As he was going over a spreadsheet, a knock came at his door. "Come in," Steve called out. An envelope being slammed down on his desk in front of Steve caught his attention. He looked up to see Mr. Barnes looking down at him with a defiantly crooked eyebrow, and without a word, he turned and stormed out of Steve’s office, shutting the door roughly behind him. He reached across his desk to retrieve it; sure it was going to be some note about sexual harassment or some such shit.

What he didn't expect was an internet sales receipt from an expensive men’s suit company...on the company credit card. He shot up out of the chair and raced out of his office after him. He was headed for the stairwell. Good. They were on the 18th floor, and nobody, besides maybe the two of them, ever used the stairs. He could scream at James all he wanted and nobody would be the wiser.

"Mr. Barnes, where do you think you're going?" He called out after him once the stairway door had closed behind the both of them.

He continued walking down the stairs without turning back to look at Steve. "We're out of coffee, Mr. Rogers," he sneered Steve’s name in the same venomous way he always did. "So I'm going downstairs to retrieve some. Can't have you missing out on your caffeine fix, sir. "

How could someone so fucking hot be such a fucking asshole? He caught up to the brunet on the landing between floors and grabbed his arm, pushing him against the wall. His eyes narrowed contemptuously at Steve, his teeth clenched in a hiss. He whipped the receipt up in front of the younger man’s face as he glared back at him. "What the fuck is this?"

He shook his head sarcastically. "You know, for such a pompous know-it-all, you really are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes. What the hell does it look like? It's a receipt. You know, you get them whenever you go shopping."

Oh, if only James wasn't the best they had, he'd be on his way out the door right now. Who the hell did he think he was, speaking to Steve this way? "I can see that," the blond growled through his teeth, crumpling the paper as he clenched his fist. "Why are you making clothing purchases on your company credit card?"

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Some bastard tore my dress shirt," he replied casually.

Well, fuck.

Steve took a deep breath through his nose and threw the paper to the floor, crashing his lips against the younger man’s and thrusting his fingers into that brown hair, pinning his body against the wall with Steve’s own. His cock throbbed against James’s hip as he felt his hand come up to the blond hair, fisting it roughly. Pulling him closer. This was so fucked up. Steve’s hands traveled down again, his hand pressing around the erection through James’s slacks.

He groaned deeply as he stroked along the hardness under the fabric, and if it was possible, he was even harder than he was last night. This was a seriously fucked up situation they had going on here. He broke away from Steve’s lips with a gasp as Steve’s hand wrapped around that aching cock, after undoing his belt and fly, his thumb rubbing vigorous circles on the tip. "On your knees," James growled through clenched teeth, opening his eyes and glaring. "I want your mouth on me now."

Fuck. Me. Did he just say what Steve think he did? God, that was hot, and if possible the blond’s cock got even harder. So this bitch wanted to play games; he'd make him come so hard he'd forget his name. He pushed James’s slacks and boxers down just enough before he knelt down on the floor and dragged his tongue up the underside before flicking it over the tip. He circled his tongue on the tip, teasing and causing James’s hips to convulse slightly from the sensation and the anticipation of more. Steve dipped his finger into his mouth before moving his hand around to press that finger to his entrance. Without warning, he took James fully into his mouth; causing him to gasp loudly and reclaim Steve’s hair in his fists. Fuck he tasted amazing, and every last drop of this arousal was caused by Steve. Well, at least he wasn't alone in this sick, twisted scenario. He continued to take him deep, hollowing his cheeks and drunk on arousal. Finally, after enough teasing, Steve pressed his finger in slowly. He eventually was able to pump it in and out before adding a second.

"Shitfuckshit!" James hissed as Steve felt him throbbing against his tongue in climax. Steve returned the favor he gave him the night before, swallowing down his release.

Once his grip lightened on Steve’s hair slightly but his muscles were still slightly tense so he knew he hadn't fully ridden it out, Steve released his mouth from him and stood up. He shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve a condom and lube. Two lubed fingers found his hole again and pressed in, quickly opening him up. He glared at Steve viciously but made quick work of his belt and pants, releasing his throbbing cock from its confines. Steve rolled on the condom and hitched James’s leg high on his hip. He pushed in and slide home in one motion. He heard the younger man yelp and clench around Steve, his breath staggered and his arousal clearly reignited.

He bit into the shoulder of Steve’s jacket and wrapped his leg around the blond a little tighter as he began screwing him hard and fast against the wall. Any moment someone could walk out into the stairwell and catch him fucking the hell out of him, and Steve couldn’t care less. Steve needed to get this prick out of his system.

He lifted his head from his shoulder and once again, their lips collided roughly, the brunet taking his bottom lip between his teeth. He was still clenched so tightly around him, as he kept his body on high; never allowing him to completely come down from his climax and he moved along his prostate with every thrust. At the same time, Steve felt euphoric friction on his cock that coaxed his own peak closer and closer to the surface. But not before this little bastard had the memory of Steve and what he was doing to James’s body embedded in his mind. Then maybe Steve could get some peace from this.

"Fuck," he growled lowly as his walls clenched around the blond again and his leg tightened around Steve to pull him deeper.

Steve buried his face in James’s neck and hair to muffle the groan as he came hard and sudden inside him, squeezing his ass in his hands. His leg slid slowly down Steve’s as they both came down and tried to regain their breathing. He pulled out of him and they both adjusted their clothes and the brunet began smoothing his hair nonchalantly.

"Well, it's a good thing you always seem to have a condom," James stated calmly, "I wouldn't expect anything less from a righteous asshole like you." And with that he turned to continue down the stairs without meeting Steve’s eye again.

Steve watched him disappear out of sight down the stairs and growled as he stormed back to his office and slammed the door. He disposed of the condom and washed his hands in the bathroom attached to his office. He landed in his chair with a loud huff, rocking back and forth a few times; thinking hard.

Holy shit. He really was so fucking screwed.


	3. According To The Plan

How in the hell he made it down those stairs without killing himself is beyond Bucky. He fled…plain and simple. He ran out of there like he was on fire, leaving Mr. Rogers alone in the stairwell slack-jawed, clothes askew, and hair standing on end like he'd been molested.  
Clearing the final floor landing in a leap, he pushed open the metal door and leaned against the wall, panting. What the fuck just happened? Did Bucky just fuck his boss on the stairs? Did he just go down on Bucky? He gasped and his hands flew over his mouth. Did he order him to? Oh, shit. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dazed, he stumbled away from the wall and into the closest restroom. The cafeteria supply was on the bottom floor, thank God, so it was fairly empty. Walking in, he did a quick check under all the stalls to make sure they were empty and then turned the lock on the main door. As he approached the bathroom mirror, he winced. Shit. Bucky looked like he'd been ridden hard and put out to dry. His hair was a fucking nightmare. All his hair was now a mass of wild tangles.

Bucky slammed his fist on the counter and moved closer to inspect the damage.

His lips were swollen along with other characteristics that screamed “freshly fucked”. Son of a bitch. He shook his head, scrubbing his face with his hands. God, he’d made a mess of things.

When Bucky walked in this morning, he had a plan. he was going to walk in there, throw that receipt in his pretty little face and tell him to fuck off. But then he'd looked so sexy in that suit, and his hair stuck up like a neon sign screaming "do me" and Bucky just lost all coherent thought. He put the envelope down on his desk and walked out without a word. Pathetic. What was it about him that made Bucky’s brain turn to mush and make his cock ache?

This was not good. How in the fuck was he going to face him without imagining Mr. Rogers naked? Okay, well not naked. Bucky technically hadn't seen him completely naked yet, but what he had seen caused another tremor to run through him. Oh God. Did Bucky just say "yet?"

So what was he going to do? He could quit. He thought about that for a minute and didn't like the way it felt. He loved his job, and Mr. Rogers might be a giant asstard but he'd dealt with that for nine months. He loved it here and he hated to admit it, but he loved watching him work. Besides the obvious reasons, Mr. Rogers really was a genius in the advertising world. His whole group of business partners were. And that was another thing. His friends. His closest friend, Sam Wilson, was another senior executive and was the nicest guy he'd ever met. Bucky loved everyone here, so quitting was simply not an option.

With that decided, Bucky knew he needed a plan of action. He just had to remain professional and make sure it never, ever happened again. Sure, this was by far the hottest, most intense sex he had ever had in his life. And maybe Mr. Rogers played his body like an instrument, just one touch from him igniting all the brunet’s senses and leaving his body screaming for more, but it just could not continue. His mind and body were not ruled by lust. He just had to remember what a jackass he was. He was an arrogant, pig-headed, spoiled brat. The world had been handed to him, and the only person he was concerned with was himself. He was a disgusting pig, and Bucky hated everything he stood for. "Hmph," Bucky huffed proud of himself, smiling into the mirror. Hell, this would be easier than he thought.

Feeling a new sense of determination, he straightened his clothes and jacket, smoothed his hair the best he could, and marched out of the bathroom. Bucky made quick work of retrieving the coffee he had been originally after and headed back to his office, making sure to avoid the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the outer office door and stepped in. The door to Mr. Rogers's office was shut, and there was no noise coming from inside. Maybe he stepped out. Like Bucky could get so lucky.

Sitting in his chair and returning to work. The last thing he wanted to do was face him, but if Bucky didn't plan on quitting, it would have to be done eventually.

Glancing through the appointment schedule, Bucky noticed that he had a presentation to give to the other partners on Monday. He grimaced when he realized this meant he would have no choice but to talk to him today. He also had a convention in Seattle next month, which meant not only would Bucky have to be in the same hotel as him, but the plane, the company car, and any meetings that came up as well. No, no awkwardness there at all.

For the next hour or so as he worked, he found himself glancing up at his door. And each time Bucky did, the butterflies in his stomach started to flutter. This was ridiculous! What the fuck was wrong with him? Bucky slammed the file shut he was looking through and dropped his head into his hands when he heard his boss’s door open.

Mr. Rogers walked out, not meeting Bucky’s eyes. His clothes had been straightened, his overcoat slung over his arm and his briefcase in hand, but his hair was still the crazy mess Bucky had left him with. "I'm leaving for the rest of the day, Mr. Barnes," he all but barked at Bucky, "Cancel my appointments and make any necessary adjustments."

He was almost out the door when Bucky came to his senses. "Mr. Rogers," he said coolly, bringing the blond to a stop, his hand resting on the door. "You and the partners have a presentation on Monday at 10:00 a.m," he said to his back. He stood still as a statue, his muscles tensed while never meeting Bucky’s eyes.

"The spreadsheets, portfolios and slide materials will be set up in the conference room by 9:30 Monday morning." Bucky was kind of enjoying this. There was nothing about his posture that screamed "comfortable." He nodded curtly and started to make his way out the door again when the brunet stopped him again. "And Mr. Rogers?" he added, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "I need your signatures on these expense reports before you leave."

His shoulders dropped slightly and he exhaled a deep breath, spinning on his heel to make his way to Bucky’s desk. Never meeting his eyes, he leaned over and flipped through the forms. Standing opposite him, he placed a pen on the desk before him. "Please, sign where the tabs are, sir. "

His hand stopped mid-signature and he slowly raised his chin, bringing his blue eyes in line with Bucky’s own. Their eyes locked for what seemed like minutes, neither of them looking away; the only sounds the tick of the large art deco clock on the wall and their uneven breaths. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched as his eyes bore into Bucky’s. His heart sped up, and for a brief moment, he had an irresistible urge to lean in and suck on that pouty bottom lip.

"Don't forward my calls," he spit out, quickly signing the last form and turning to leave without a word.

"Bastard," Bucky sneered to himself as he watched him disappear out the door.

\---

To say Bucky’s weekend sucked, would be putting it mildly. He hardly ate, he hardly slept and what little sleep he did get was interrupted by images of white-hot sexual escapades in various locations and stages of undress. Saturday morning, he awoke in a frustrated and bad mood, but managed to somehow get his shit together and take care of housework and grocery shopping, along with all the other various mundane tasks that filled an everyday life.

Sunday morning, however, Bucky was not so lucky. He woke with a start, panting and trembling; his body sweaty and twisted in a mass of white cotton sheets. The dream he had was so intense. They had been on the conference table again, but this time they were both completely naked. He was on his back, Bucky’s legs straddling him, his body gliding up and down on his boss’s cock. His hands were running everywhere; along the sides of Bucky’s face, down his neck, across his chest to tease his nipples and to his hips where he guided the younger man’s movements.

"Shit," he groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. This was going from bad to worse quickly. He'd always had fantasies about the man. He was fucking gorgeous, but his personality had always been such a turn off. Who would have thought his being an angry jackass would result in Bucky getting fucked up against a window? And liking it. Damn, this train of thought was not helping.

Walking into the bathroom, he started the shower. But standing there, waiting for the water to warm, Bucky’s thoughts began to drift again. His pretty hair between Bucky’s legs, his eyes looking up at the brunet as he licked and sucked, the look of lust as they had fucked, and the sound of his voice when he groaned in release. God, he was so screwed.

Bucky showered and dressed quickly, leaving him just enough time to meet Natasha for brunch.

He decided that it would be a bad idea to talk to Natasha about what was going on. Natasha saw Mr. Rogers around the building all the time. And Natasha would kick his ass if Bucky told her. For almost a year she'd listened to him complain about what a dick Mr. Rogers was, and she would not be happy to find out that Bucky was fucking him.

Two hours later he was sitting with his best friend, drinking Mimosa's on the patio of their favorite restaurant; talking about men and clothes and work.

"So how is work going, Bucky?" Natasha asked between bites of her melon. "That douche of a boss still giving you a hard time? What was that name you had for him? Beautiful bastard or something?'

"Yeah, pretty much. He is gorgeous, and he's the biggest fucker I've ever met. I don't know what the hell his problem is." Bucky replied nonchalantly. This really wasn't a conversation he wanted to have right now.

"Well," Natasha said, shrugging her shoulders and taking a long sip of her drink, "Maybe he's pissed off because he's got a small dick."

Bucky slumped slightly into his chair as she giggled to herself. That was most certainly not his problem.

\---

Monday morning, Bucky was a bundle of nerves as he made his way into the building. He had made his decision; he wasn't going to sacrifice his job because of their lack of judgment. He had worked hard to rise up to where he was, and he was stronger than that. Bucky would just deal with the situation at hand and move forward. He could take whatever that ass had to say today, and Bucky could dish it right back to him.

The brunet arrived early to have time to prepare for the presentation. The reception area was mostly empty, as he made his way through the elaborate lobby. The wide space was opened three stories up and gleamed with polished granite flooring and travertine walls. As the elevator doors closed behind him, as he gave himself a mental pep talk. Recounting all the arguments they had had and the jackass comments that he'd directed at Bucky, he steeled his resolve. He could do this.

As he had expected, the office was still empty when he arrived. Gathering all the materials he would need, Bucky headed to the conference room to set up. Ahh…the scene of the crime. Glancing around the large and sun-filled room; he slowly walked in, setting the files and folders on the large conference table. He let his fingers brush against the smooth wood, thinking of the last time he had touched it. He shook his head slightly, trying clear it, and began setting up the room.

Twenty minutes later the proposals were set out, the projector was set up and refreshments were ready. With several minutes to spare, he found himself wandering over to the window. Reaching out he touched the smooth glass, overwhelmed by the sensations it brought; the heat of his body against his back, the feel of the cool glass against his chest and the raw animalistic sound of his voice in Bucky’s ear. He closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his palms and forehead against the window and let the power of the memories overtake him.

Bucky was startled from his fantasy by a throat clearing behind him. "Mr. Rogers," he gasped, spinning around. Their eyes locked momentarily and he was once again struck by how beautiful he was. Breaking eye contact with Bucky, his gaze swept around the room.

"Mr. Barnes," he said, his voice curt, "I will be giving the presentation to the other executives on the 4th floor."

"Excuse me?" Bucky asked, not hiding the shock in his voice. "Why would you do that? We always use this room. And why did you wait till the last minute to tell me?"

"Because, Mr. Barnes," he added, leaning on his fists on the table, "I am the boss. I make the rules, and I decide when and where things happen. Maybe if you weren't daydreaming out windows, you would have time to do your job. Do you think you can manage that, Mr. Barnes?" He continued to stare at Bucky, daring him to strike back.

That rotten son of a bitch. Where was the duck tape when you needed it? White-hot images of Bucky ripping his throat out and taking a baseball bat to his shiny black sports car filled his mind. It took every bit of control he had not to jump across the table and strangle him. A smug smile crept over his face; and with each passing moment of the younger man’s silence, he grew more and more pleased with himself.

Ohhh…so this was how it was going to be. Well, two could certainly play at this game. "Oh, of course, Mr. Rogers. Don't you worry about a thing." Bucky goaded, smiling sweetly at him. "Nothing in this room ever takes longer than a few minutes anyway."

Well, that wiped the smug look right off his face. He opened his mouth as if to respond and snapped it shut again. Fists clenched tightly at his side, he almost appeared to be trembling with rage. In all the time he worked for him, he'd never seen Mr. Rogers so visibly angry; and Bucky was enjoying every minute of it.

They stood facing each other, separated by the large table; crackling electricity filling the room. Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but changed his mind. And without a word, he turned quickly, storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Bucky was unable to control the laughter that bubbled up from his chest. Who did that prick think he was dealing with? Feeling literally drunk with power, he made quick work of gathering everything up, placing the items in a box and making his way to the elevator.

Turning the corner as Bucky entered the room, his eyes immediately met Mr. Rogers's. Sitting in his chair, his hands tented in front of him, it was apparent by the scowl on his face that he was still angry. But the brunet’s attention soon wandered to the person beside him. "Here let me help you with that, James," he said in a pleasant, calm voice while giving Mr. Rogers a reproachful glare.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson." Bucky said gratefully, as he took the heavy box from his hands.

"James”, he said, a sincere smile on his face, "How many times do I need to ask you to call me Sam?"

He placed the box on the conference room table and pulled a seat out next to his friend. Sam was one of Mr. Rogers’s oldest friends and they both owned large corporations in the marketing world, sometimes working and boosting each other on projects.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he replied happily.

Hearing loud footsteps behind him, Bucky was not surprised to feel a warm kiss placed on his cheek, causing him to giggle. "Good morning, James," Tony said as he entered the room. "Sorry, I'm late guys. I guess I thought we were meeting up on your floor."

Bucky chanced a smug look out of the corner of his eye, meeting Mr. Rogers's gaze. Looking away he smiled widely at Tony as he began passing the presentation materials around the table. "And good morning to you, Mr. Stark.”

"James," he groaned. "Please call me Tony, I believe we know each other well enough to be on a first-name basis, don't you think?” he explained in that cheerful tone, he always had.

Bucky began to move to hand out all the presentation packets. At the end of the table, Bucky stopped and placed the final presentation booklet in front of his jackass boss. "Here you are, Mr. Rogers," he said coolly.

Without so much as a glance, he began going through his papers. "Mr. Barnes." He answered in return. "Make sure the projection equipment is up and ready before you get the coffee." Well, there would be no "Call me Steve" coming from him today. Dick.

Just as he was turning to leave, Tony's boisterous voice stopped Bucky. "Oh James, while I was up there waiting, I found these on the floor." Glancing down, Bucky saw two silver buttons sitting in his palm. "Would you ask around and see if any one of the other assistants has lost these? They look kind of expensive and how in the hell does someone lose two buttons from a shirt and not notice?" he said, chuckling and shaking his head.

It might have been just him, but Bucky swore the breath left him in an audible gasp. He had completely forgotten about the buttons. "Um…yea…sure, Tony." he stuttered out.

"Tony, can I see those for a minute?" Jackass suddenly chimed in, taking the buttons from his friend.

"Why Mr. Barnes," he said, a wicked smirk in place, "Don't you have a dress shirt with buttons like these? And as I recall, I mean, I'm no expert, but it seems it was rather expensive." Bucky glanced quickly around the room; Tony and Sam seemed to be tuning out the majority of the conversation, unaware of the episode unfolding in front of them.

Mr. Rogers stood up, walking around the table. Taking Bucky’s hand, he ran a finger from the inside of his arm to the younger man’s hand, placing the buttons in his palm and closing it around them. His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded loudly against his chest. Bucky felt his throat suddenly go dry. Leaning in closely, his breath hot on the brunet’s ear, he whispered, "I mean I would hate to think of having such a nice piece of clothing ruined. You really should try and be more careful."

Bucky attempted to maintain a calm demeanor as he lowered his hand from the blond’s. "Thank you, Mr. Rogers," he replied through ground teeth before he pulled away. He quickly set up the projector and he took his seat as they began the meeting. That no-good son of a bitch. What was he playing at? It would only take a moment of notice from either of his colleagues to overhear something and put two and two together.

Regardless of how good he was at his job, fucking his boss in conference rooms and stairwells was not going to help Bucky’s career.

Throughout the meeting they cast glances at each other; Bucky’s fueled with anger and his with smug cockiness. He was damn good at what he did too and he knew it. Too damn good. Bucky looked down at the spreadsheets in front of him as much as possible to avoid looking at him. As soon as the meeting was over, he gathered his things as fast as he could and got the hell out of there. But as expected, Mr. Rogers was hot on his tail all the way to the elevator until they were both seething silently in the back on their way up to the office.

He stood in the elevator in front of Mr. Rogers, positively livid at the mockery he had made of Bucky in the conference room. Why wouldn't this elevator hurry up, and why did someone on every floor decide they needed to use it now? By the time they reached the eleventh floor, the elevator was almost to full capacity. When the door opened and three more people decided to squeeze in, Bucky was pushed farther back into him, his back against his chest and his ass against his…. oh my…

He felt the rest of his body stiffen subtly and heard him take a sharp breath; and even though Bucky’s cock was tingling at the contact of their bodies, he couldn't help but smirk. Payback is a bitch, asshole.

By the fourteenth floor, there was just enough elbow room to move and Bucky pretended to adjust his stance, but purposely rubbed his backside along his boss’s raging erection.

He pressed back against Bucky and he could barely contain his gasp. No, Bucky. You're not going to allow him to affect you this way anymore, he mentally scolded himself. But as he felt the entire length of him pressed against him, he felt the hardness start between his legs. It was time to bring him to his knees and then the brunet smirked at the memory that thought sparked. A vicious little thought popped into his mind. But could he do it? He chanced a glance back at him, and Mr. Rogers glared at him. Oh yeah, he could so do this.

They reached the fifteenth floor and a few more people filed out. Bucky stepped away from him slightly, causing Mr. Rogers to lose direct contact with him. A large man in front of Bucky chose that moment to step back, sending him backwards once again into Mr. Rogers's body. Hard. Reaching out to keep him from falling, he pulled the brunet to him and stifled a groan. This was so fun. He was so tempted to taunt him. How you like it now, asshole? Not so fun being played with is it?

"God, I am so clumsy, Mr. Rogers." Bucky said glancing up at him. His eyes were closed tightly and his face was flushed. "Are you feeling okay, sir? You look like you might have a fever." He opened his eyes to look down at Bucky, and he suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea. Clearing his throat Bucky glanced around, there were only five people in the elevator with them and only two floors to go. The door opened again and the last ones stepped out. One more floor to go and he could strut out of here, leaving the blond and his lethal wood behind.

As soon as the doors closed and the elevator began to move, he heard a growl from behind him and caught a quick sudden movement as Mr. Rogers slammed his hand against the stop button on the control panel. His eyes turned on Bucky and they were a deeper blue than he had ever seen them. "Bad move, Mr. Barnes," he sneered, and in one fluid motion, his body came to the brunet’s, pinning him against the wall of the elevator and crashing their lips together. Their tongues battled, their moans filling the silent space. Pulling away from him, he glared, "Don't move." And even though Bucky wanted to tell him to fuck off, his body begged him to do whatever he said.

Reaching over to Bucky’s discarded files, he plucked a post-it note off and placed it on the camera lens on the ceiling. A shiver of anticipation shot through him, battling with his constant urge to stop this…this thing between them. He had never been so torn before. Bucky didn't want this with him, but every nerve inside him was screaming for his touch. There was absolutely no denying how he made him feel.

The blond returned to him, his lips once again taking possession of his, and an involuntary groan rumbled in Bucky’s throat as his hardened dick pressed against his own. His body began acting on instinct and his dick fully began to harden. After a moment of ravaging each other's mouths, he pulled away and his fingers nimbly flicked open Bucky’s pants.

"Very, very bad move," he seethed through his teeth. Mr. Rogers’s hands took his, turning him around, bringing them up and pressing Bucky’s palms against the wall. There he stood with him back to him, and as he ground into his backside, hands drifting around to fist Bucky’s cock in his pants.

He used his free hand to delve into Bucky’s hair and roughly pulled his head to the side, giving him access to the younger man’s neck. Hot, wet kisses rained down Bucky’s neck. His touch left a spark of electricity, over every inch of skin he touched.

Bucky heard him draw in a slow breath through his nose as his body pressed up against his again, the cool wall against his chest sending shivers through his body. He was no longer stroking Bucky, just holding the base of his cock, the pressure from his touch caused the brunet to ache, his fingers pressing and releasing, leaving him wanting. The need inside Bucky was building, desperately needing him to move.

"You like to fuck with me, don't you? You little cocktease." He did two slow strokes before stopping to grip the base again.

"Fuck you." Bucky groaned in response. His thumb came up to swipe over and tease the tip.

"Oh, you want me to fuck you, don't you? My cock slamming in and out of you, making you come all over me. You want that don't you, you little tease?" Bucky actually moaned as his hand finally began to move on his dick again. After a moment, Mr. Rogers pressed him back into him. "Say it, Barnes. Say it and I'll give you what you want." He sped up his administrations on Bucky’s cock. He shook his head, but his body seemed to betray him. Bucky closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts, but everything was just too much. The feel of his body pressed up against Bucky’s, the sound of his rough voice, and the feeling of his long fingers wrapped so deliciously around Bucky’s erection, building his climax so steadily. His other hand tugged on that brown hair. "Say it!"

"God, yes." Bucky groaned finally. "I want you to fuck me." He let out a low, strangled moan and let his forehead rest on the brunet’s shoulder. His fingers began moving faster, properly fisting his cock. His hips ground against Bucky’s ass, his hard cock rubbing against him.

The rhythmic sounds of their panting and groans were suddenly silenced by the shrill ringing of a phone. They stilled as the realization of where they were entered their consciousness. Bucky heard a curse escape his mouth and he moved away from him. Panting, he turned to find him reaching for the phone inside the control panel. Bucky quickly readjusted his clothes as he watched Mr. Rogers.

"Yes." He spoke into the phone, their eyes locked across the elevator. "I see…No, we're fine…" His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. "No, it just stopped." He continued. "That's fine." He finished, hanging up the phone. Bucky tried like hell to calm his breathing, but every part of his body was still aching for release.

The elevator jerked as it slowly began ascending again. Tension hanging heavy in the air as neither of them spoke. The elevator chimed as they stopped at their floor. The doors opened and without another word, he walked out.

And Bucky had yet again fallen victim to the proceeding of his asshole boss, his plan had not gone completely as expected.


	4. You Owe Me

Panic. The emotion gripping him as he all but sprinted to his office could only be described as pure panic. Steve could not believe he let himself slip again. Being alone with him in that tiny steel prison; his smell, his sounds, his touch; had him once again under James’s power. Sure, he may have seemed calm and collected on the outside, even smug and in control, but every part of him was unraveling deep down. This man had a hold on Steve, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Finally, in the relative safety of his office, the blond collapsed on the leather sofa. Leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees, he gripped his hair tightly, willing himself to calm and his erection to subside.

"Fuck!" he basically shouted to the empty room. Things were going from bad to worse, and Steve knew it. He was digging himself a hole. 

He knew from the minute James reminded him of this morning's meeting that there was no way in hell he could form one coherent thought, let alone give an entire presentation in that fucking conference room. And forget sitting at that table ever again. He'd never be able to sit at that thing without remembering what it was like to have James spread out before him as he fucked him. Walking in there to find him leaning up against the glass, deep in thought, was enough to make Steve’s dick twitch. But by the time he turned and he saw those icy blue eyes and how his face turned into a blush from having been caught daydreaming, Steve practically had a full-blown hard on.

He'd made up some bullshit story about the meeting being moved to a different floor, and of course, Mr. Barnes called him on it. Why did he always have to antagonize Steve? So being the dick that Steve is, he made a point of reminding him of who was in charge. But did it work? Hell no. Like every other argument they'd ever had, James threw it right back in his face. But not just that, he insinuated that Steve’s performance had been less than satisfactory. He sure as hell didn't sound unsatisfied the other night on the table, or up against the window, or in the stairwell for that matter. Fuck. This was not helping.

So when he'd finally made his way down to the conference room, Steve was ready. He'd be damned if he'd let the brunet have the upper hand when Tony walked in with those buttons, even though he knew he really shouldn't do this in front of them, Steve could only focus on his opportunity to get even.

And James positively seethed throughout the entire presentation and then booked out of the room.

Served him right for thinking that he could go toe to toe with Steve. Did James forget who the boss was here? But then that fucking elevator…

Steve jumped slightly as the sound of a loud thud outside of his office distracted him from his thoughts.

Followed by another one. And yet another. What the hell was going on out there? He stood up from the couch and made his way to the door, and he opened it to find Mr. Barnes slamming folders and such a little harder than necessary on his desk. The blond folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The sight of him so flustered was not in the slightest way easing the throbbing in Steve’s cock. "Mr. Barnes, can I see you in my office. Now."

James turned his head to look at him and narrowed his eyes slightly. "But of course, Mr. Rogers," he snapped sassily but in that honey-sweet tone that brought Steve’s blood to a boil as he moved by him into the office.

Steve pushed the door closed roughly and walked toward him. "Would you mind telling me what your problem is?"

He scoffed and then roughly shoved his hands against Steve’s chest, knocking him off balance, and he landed on the couch as James quickly straddled Steve’s legs. His lips crashed against Steve’s in a furious assault and he felt himself harden more as he ground against the blond.

"Any more questions?"

Steve’s only response was a deep growl in his throat as he grabbed his ass and pulled him more firmly against him. The movements of his hips had their clothed cocks grinding against each other and Steve’s head fell back against the couch. This man was going to be the death of him; any resolve he might have had was now completely gone.

"I think we have some unfinished business that requires our immediate attention, Mr. Rogers," he said in a gravelly and sultry voice that had Steve getting harder. James tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth before standing up off of him, and the blond opened his eyes to watch his assistant walk across the room to the door. That prick is going to walk out that door after that? The click of the lock took Steve by surprise, and when he locked eyes with him, he was almost entranced by the fury and lust raging in those grey-blue depths. "Appears that you have a problem there, sir," he growled as his gaze flickered between Steve’s eyes and the bulge in his pants. Fucking little cocktease.

Steve gave a deep growl and grabbed onto his waist, laying him down roughly on the couch and bringing his hand to cup and rub his clothed dick; taunting him. "Appears you do as well, Mr. Barnes," Steve replied huskily as he squeezed his dick hard, coaxing a groan from James. He leaned down to kiss him forcefully and held his lip between his teeth as Steve retracted his hand. "But I don't fuck in my office."

"Bullshit," he growled back in frustration, his voice thick with arousal. "You're gonna do something and finish what you started."

James quickly fumbled with his belt and fly to release his erection. Steve felt his hands come to his blond hair and he pushed Steve’s face down. The scent of his arousal was intoxicating and before another thought could pass through Steve’s mind, he took his cock between his lips. The blond watched James’s chest rise and fall sharply with his gasping breaths as he ran his tongue in slow teasing motions along his sensitive flesh. Never ceasing his ministrations, Steve’s hand made quick work of his belt and pants. When he finally removed his mouth from his cock, he released his throbbing cock. "If I remember correctly, Mr. Barnes; I actually didn't start this. I think perhaps you should finish what you started."

He opened his eyes and sneered at his boss, and without a word switched their positions around so that his head was now in Steve’s lap. He ran his tongue tauntingly along the underside of Steve’s cock once and his smoldering eyes peered up. "Now why would I do something like that?"

He raised an eyebrow down at him and reached his hand down between his legs and quickly squeezed his dick roughly, causing James to yelp slightly from the sensitivity of it. "I don't get off, neither do you."

"Why you egotistical…" the brunet growled again until he cut him off by squeezing hard again. "Fuck you." he growled and moved again to press the tip of his cock to Steve’s lips. Steve was taken back and almost did not open his jaw, or if he was going to then he wasn’t going to be nice about it. But after a split second, he opened his mouth to allow James’s dick to slide in. There was no way Steve would let his assistant come his he did not get it as well.

Within a minute or so his hips twitched against Steve and he increased his movements, driving his nerves insane. James spilled into his mouth as he rode out his orgasm. He better give Steve a damn good blowjob for getting to come first.

Steve switched their positions once his assistant came down from his high, pushing his aching cock into his mouth. He did admit that James was very responsive and eagerly began to suck Steve off and he knew his release was only moments off after having basically been hard since that morning.

"James?" Steve heard Sam’s voice outside his door, and just as he was about to come, he shot up off the couch. A knock sounded on the office door as he adjusted his dress shirt and Steve adjusted himself back into his pants. "Steve?"

Perfect timing, Sam, he grumbled internally as he stood up and made his way over to his desk and sat down. Steve’s dick was seriously aching now, though one would think his friend's voice would cause an insta-shrink, but he'd been hard since he saw the brunet at the window this morning. This was just getting ridiculous.

James gave his boss a triumphant smirk to which he returned a glare as he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Mr. Wilson, I mean, Sam. I was just leaving."

He watched his friend's face fall in concern as he looked at him. "James, dear. Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed."

Steve watched as he brought his hand up to his head and cleared his throat. "You know, I'm really not feeling that well, actually. It's been a long morning," he looked over at Steve with a mischievous stare that would be overlooked by the casual observer. "I'm actually going to take the rest of the day off, Mr. Rogers. Regain my strength."

You fucking bitch, Steve wanted to scream at him, but had to hold it inside since his friend was in the room.

He clenched his fists under his desk; he wasn't sure who hated Mr. Barnes worse, him or his balls. "You do have that big project, you know," he snarled at him.

"It can be put off for a day," he shrugged casually in return.

"I was expecting results today, Mr. Barnes," he gritted warningly through clenched teeth.

Sam turned his gaze to Steve. "I'm sure you can handle whatever needs to be done, Steve." Not helping, Sam. Really not helping. He turned back to James with that soft friendly smile. "You go on ahead."

"Thank you, Sam," he replied with a sweet smile and then turned back to Steve with a curt nod. "Mr. Rogers."

The blond watched him walk out and Sam closed the door behind him and then turned to look at Steve almost scoldingly. "What?" he asked in frustration.

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer to him, Steve," he moved forward and sat on the corner of his desk. "You're lucky to have him, you know."

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head. "If his personality were as appealing as his brain, we wouldn't have a problem."

He cut Steve off with his glare and he leaned back in his chair in defeat. "You are better than this, Steve," he said sternly and then stood up again. "Anyway, Peggy called and told me to remind you about dinner tonight at the house. Tony and Pepper are coming over tonight."

Steve simply nodded to him, "Yes, I'll be there."

He made his way over to the door and looked back at Steve before closing the door. "Don't be late."

"I won't, I promise!" he replied, slightly annoyed as he closed the door chuckling. He knew as well as anyone that Steve couldn't stand being late for anything, even something as simple as a group dinner. Tony, on the other hand, would be late for his own funeral. 

But now with all this work in front of him, left behind by his assistant, he had no idea how he was going to get out of here on time; not to mention the additional chore he left behind that would consume Steve’s lunch hour. He needed to put him out of his mind any way he could. He pulled out the crumpled receipt he had tossed in his drawer last week, unraveling it. He peered at the name, seeing again how the purchase was made to a quite expensive clothing brand. The purchase was for a few varied suit jackets and dress shirts. 

Granted, they didn't look like cheap dress shirts, but they weren't exactly insane quality either. And it sparked his curiosity. Maybe he should pop into the store downtown sometime and at least see how much his trashing of James’s clothes is costing him. Steve ran his free hand through his hair, groaning. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about.

As hard as he tried, Steve could not focus on a damn thing all day. Even after his lunchtime ritual, he still could not get his mind past the morning's events. And by three, he was a wreck and knew he just had to get out of there. Steve reached the elevator and groaned slightly, opting for the stairs instead. Though that was not much better; just not as fresh in his memory.

Pulling up to Sam’s home later that evening, Steve immediately felt some of his tension slip away.

Once everyone greeted each other and sat down at the large table, finally dinner began. 

"Steve, I've been meaning to ask you. Would you invite James to dinner next week, and do your best to convince him to come?" Steve rolled his eyes before looking at Peggy and received a kick in the shin from Sam.

"Why is everyone so insistent on getting him over here?" he knew his voice was possibly a bit high and loud for the dinner table but Steve was so tired of having this conversation with his friends.

"Steve, you know he is a friend of ours and deserves an invite, and-"

"Peggy," Steve interrupted. "He doesn’t know us well enough to come to dinner like that."

"Like I was saying," she answered a hint of warning in her voice. "He lives alone and he's so cute and sweet and I have someone I want to introduce him to." Steve’s fork froze in mid-air as those words sunk in. She wanted to set him up with someone. Well, this was odd. He felt something, constricting in his chest, but he wasn't sure what it was. If he had to put a name on it, he'd call it…anger?

Why would Steve be angry that his friend wanted to set Mr. Barnes up? Well probably because you're fucking him, dumb ass. Well not really fucking him so much as fucked him…twice. ‘Fucking him’ would constitute his intent to continue. Oh, and he molested his assistant in an elevator and went down on him in his office. Wow, put that way it sounded really bad.

Clearing his throat, and trying to rid the venom from his voice, Steve responded. "Sure, Peggy. I'll talk to him. But don't get your hopes up. He's about as charm free as they come, and that's a hard deal to close." he shoved another bite into his mouth.

"You know, Steve," Tony decided to chime in, "I think everyone here would agree that you are the only one that he seems to be unpleasant to." Steve looked around the table, frowning at the heads nodding and agreeing with Tony. Returning his glare toTony, he saw he wore a surprisingly smug look on his face. Great, now James was even fucking with him here too.

The rest of the night consisted of more talk about how Steve needed to try and be nicer to Mr. Barnes, and about how great they all thought he was, and about how much he would like Peggy’s friend, Brock. Yeah right.

Steve left with the promise that he would do his best to convince him to come, although to be honest, the blond didn't even know when he would see his assistant again. He had meetings and appointments all over the city for the next few days, and even if he saw him for a brief moment as he ran in or out of the office, Steve had absolutely no desire to talk to him after today's little incident.

\---

Thursday.

Glaring at the traffic as they crawled down a street in Manhattan, Steve wondered if his day would ever improve. He fucking hated sitting in traffic. The office was only a few blocks away, and he was seriously considering just having the driver take the car back and getting out and walking. Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was already after six, and they'd managed to travel only three blocks in twenty minutes.

Perfect. Closing his eyes Steve rested his head back on the seat and recounted the meeting he had just left.

Nothing, in particular, had gone wrong; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The clients had been thrilled with the company’s proposals, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Steve just seemed to be in a fucking bad mood.

Tony had made a point of telling him every fifteen minutes of the last three hours that he was behaving like a moody teenager, and by the time the contracts were signed, Steve wanted to pummel him.

Every chance he had he asked what the hell Steve’s problem was, and frankly, the blond couldn't say he blamed Tony. Even he had to admit he had been a fucking prick the last couple of days. And for Steve, that was saying something. Of course Tony thought he had all the answers and decided Steve’s problem was that he needed to get laid. God, if he only knew.

It had been two days. Just two mother fucking days since that bitch walked out of Steve’s office leaving him rock hard and with a terminal set of blue balls, and he was a total mess. The way he was acting one would think Steve hadn't had sex in six months. But no, two-going on three-days of not touching him and Steve felt like a fucking lunatic. The car stopped again and Steve thought he was going to scream. Glancing out the tinted windows, he noticed where they had stopped; right in front of the fancy suit company store from the receipt. Steve was out of the car before he could even register the thought.

Standing on the curb waiting to cross, it occurred to him that he didn't have a clue what he was doing.

What was the point of going in? What was he planning on doing? God, this was so fucking stupid.

He stepped into the modern store and was immediately overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity. The floors were a cool dark wood, the walls and ceilings where grey with long cylindrical light fixtures, clustered into groups throughout the large room. The lighting cast the entire space in a clean glow, illuminating the tables and racks of expensive suits and jackets. It had not been that long since Steve had gone to an actual store to purchase clothes for work and business. Of course now he had all of his clothes sent to him after they were custom sized and tailored for him. 

Running his fingers along a table set near the front of the store, Steve became aware that he had already gathered the attention of the sales staff. A tall, beautiful, yet overly made-up blonde walked towards him.

"Welcome to Armani," she said brightly. "Is there something I can help you find today?" she added, a hint of flirtation in her voice.

"Um…No, thank you," Steve answered, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even being here. "I'm just looking." he glanced away quickly, but not before noticing the way her eyes appraised him up and down.

"Well if you change your mind let me know," she said with a wink, before turning and making her way back to the sales counter. Steve watched her walk away appreciatively and was immediately disgusted that he hadn't even considered getting her number. Fuck. He wasn't a total idiot, but a beautiful woman in a clothing store had just flirted with him and the thought hadn't even occurred to him to flirt back. Holy shit. What the hell was wrong with him?

Running his hands through his hair, Steve decided it was time to take stock of the situation. He needed to face the fact that he was completely out of control. One look around at his current location was proof enough of that. All he could think about was having sex with his assistant, and it was fucking pissing him off.

He was just about to turn and leave when something caught his eye. Walking over, he let his eyes glance over a suit jacket that he had seen James wear on a few occasions, always fitting him perfectly.

"See anything you like?" Steve turned, startled to hear a familiar voice standing behind me. Shit. Mr. Barnes.

But he'd never really seen him like this before. He looked handsome like always, but completely casual.

He was wearing what he was sure were an expensive pair of jeans and a red t-shirt. His hair was fluffed perfectly on his head, he did not look much older than twenty.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he questioned.

"What the fuck business of yours is it what I'm doing here?" Steve growled back.

"So, what? You are stalking where I shop now?" he glared at the blond, motioning to the suit jacket Steve had been looking at.

"Mr. Barnes, I -"

“God, you are such a shitty person, do you know that?” the brunet cut him off harshly. 

"Holy shit," Steve said shaking his head. He almost laughed that they were once again at each other's throats.

"Why do you have to be such a fucking little prick all the time?" he all but shouted at the younger man. He could feel himself literally shaking with rage. He had never met someone who had this effect on him.

"I guess you just bring out the best in me," he said angrily. He was leaning forward, his chest nearly touching Steve’s. Looking around he noticed that they were gathering attention from the other people in the store

"Look," he said trying to compose himself. "How about you calm down and lower your voice some." Steve knew he had to get the fuck out of here soon, before something happened again. For some sick reason, fighting with this man always ended up with his cock hard.

"Come with me," he seethed, and grabbed hold of his boss’s arm, pulling him towards the back of the store.

He pulled him around a corner and through a door and he realized they were in a dressing room. He had obviously been here a while as there were hangers of different types of dress shirts and pants hanging on hooks from the walls. Music was being piped through overhead speakers, and Steve was glad he wouldn't have to worry about keeping his voice down too much as he strangled James.

Closing the large mirrored door opposite the chaise, he stood with his eyes closed, every muscle in his body seemed to be tense and on edge. "Did you follow me here?" he asked glaring at Steve angrily.

"What?" he almost shouted. "Why the fuck would I do that?"

"So you just happened to be browsing around in this specific clothing store. I know you don’t shop for yourself, Mr. Rogers." he snapped venomously with an eyebrow crooked.

"God, you are such a fucking bitch," he sneered at the brunet. But even as he said the words, their bodies were moving closer and their breathing was picking up.

"You know, it's a good thing you've got that big dick to make up for that fucking mouth of yours," James fired back, his eyes running along Steve’s body before meeting his face again.

"Oh yeah?" the blond challenged, moving closer to him, backing the younger man up against the dressing room wall. "I didn't hear you complaining about my mouth the other day in my office, Mr. Barnes. Speaking of which, I believe it is now you, who owes me."

His chest was heaving, and Steve saw his eyes move down to his mouth as he bit his bottom lip.

Slowly wrapping his tie around his fist, he pulled Steve to him, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His mouth opened as his soft tongue entered and met Steve’s.

Groaning into his mouth, the blond slid one hand to his jaw and the other up to his brown hair, carding through it. Steve then fisted it tightly, jerking his head to better accommodate his mouth. James moaned and Steve pulled it tighter. "You like that?" his voice rumbled into his mouth. "You like it rough, don't you?"

"God, yes," he groaned seductively in response. At that moment, hearing those words, Steve didn't care about anything else; where they were, who they were, or how they felt about each other. Never in his life had he felt such raw sexual chemistry with anyone. When they were together like this, nothing else mattered, he was overtaken by animalistic lust and the brunet was the only thing that could tame it.

His hands ran down his assistant’s sides and he gripped the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and over James’s head, breaking their kiss for only a second. Not to be left behind, he pushed Steve’s jacket from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

His thumbs ran circles across the younger man’s skin as he moved his hands to the waist of his jeans. Quickly undone, they fell to the floor, and he kicked them and his shoes off. Pulling away from his mouth, Steve began placing wet kisses on his neck and shoulders.

"Fuck," Steve growled as James rolled his hips against the blond’s, grinding their erections together. 

He bit Steve’s ear roughly as his hands went to the buttons of his boss’s shirt. Their breaths were quickly becoming pants as their movements became more frenzied. Steve’s own hands undid his pants and belt, pushing them and his boxers to the floor. Pulling him with Steve, the blond moved to the chaise.

Steve kissed along his neck as his fingers glided across the lean muscle on the expanse of James’s chest, stopping to tease each nipple. His dick was throbbing now as he sat down on the chaise and he moved to take one perfect pink nipple into his mouth, the brunet’s hands ran through his hair, pulling him closer. James hissed and tugged harder as Steve moved to the other neglected nipple. Fuck that felt good. He guessed his assistant wasn't the only one who liked things rough.

So many emotions were running through Steve’s mind. At this moment, there was nothing in this world he wanted more than to bury himself in him. But he knew that when it was over, he would hate them both. Him for making Steve weak, for teasing and tormenting him, for bringing him to his knees; and himself for losing control again, for allowing his lust to override his anger. Despite all of this hatred, he knew he couldn't stop. He had turned into a junkie, living for his next fix. His perfectly constructed life was crashing around him and all he cared about was sinking into this demon in front of him.

Sliding his hands down the brunet’s sides, he let his fingers move around to wrap around James’s throbbing dick. A shiver went through him and Steve began to pump his fist. Steve used his free hand to retrieve a condom and lube from his pants, damn why did he always have these supplies on him? Was he seriously planning on getting laid that often? Or was he just trying to be safe rather than sorry? Either way, he was glad he had them now.

Two lubed fingers snaked around to draw circles around James’s hole. He reconnected their lips as he slowly pushed a single finger in. James groaned into his mouth as he began to move his hand. After a moment, a second finger joined the first and they scissored slightly to open him up. Their kisses were full of lust, as if each of them could not get enough of the other. Eventually, Steve had opened him up with three fingers, taking care to make sure he was ready even if James was such an asshole to Steve that maybe he did not deserve the comfort. 

Grabbing his hips the blond lifted him, bringing him to straddle his lap and finally plunging inside of him.

The feeling was so intense that he had to forcefully still his hips to keep from exploding. "Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenched; every thought focused on trying to make this last. If he lost it now, he knew the brunet would throw it back in his face later. And he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Once he felt in control, he began moving his hips. They hadn't fucked in this position yet, and even though he hated to admit it, their bodies fit together perfectly. Bringing his hands down his hips to his legs, the blond gripped one in each hand and wrapped them around his hips. The change of position brought him deeper inside James, and he buried his face in his neck to keep from groaning out loud.

Steve was aware of the sounds of voices all around them as people entered and left the other dressing rooms. The thought that they could get caught at any moment only made this better.

Once again Steve found himself looking over the brunet’s shoulder, watching them fuck in the mirror. He had never seen anything so erotic in his entire life.

He pulled his blond hair once again, pulling his mouth back to James’s, their tongues gliding against each others’, matching the motion of their hips. "Fuck. You feel so good," Steve whispered into his mouth. "Turn around; you need to see something." he pulled him off of himself and turned the younger man to face the mirror. With his back against Steve’s chest, he settled on his lap again and he guided his dick back into him.

"Oh God," he breathed out heavily as his head fell back against Steve’s shoulder, and he was unsure if it was from the feeling of his dick inside him or the image reflected in the mirror.

Steve gripped his hair and forced his head back up, "No, I want you to look right there," he growled in his ear, meeting James’s gaze in the mirror. "I want you to watch me fuck you. And tomorrow when you're sore, I want you to remember who did this to you."

"Just shut up and fuck me," he answered back stubbornly, clenching around Steve in encouragement. The blond made sure to adjust his hips to brush along that bundle of nerves inside of him. 

"Oh, you want to play rough, little tease?" Steve taunted, grabbing his hips and pulling him harder onto himself. "And you better keep that mouth of yours quiet. You don't want all these people to know you're getting fucked in here right next to them, do you?"

A quiet moan was his only response, and the blond found himself smirking at the fact that he had finally shut his prick of an assistant up. His body continued to glide up and down on his dick, milking him. Steve’s hands roamed every inch of his body and he rained wet kisses and bites along the backs of his shoulders. In the mirror Steve could see his dick sliding in and out of him; and as much as he didn't want these memories in his head, he knew that was a sight he would never forget.

His gaze never left Steve’s as their hips continued to gyrate against each other, and he knew they were both close. James’s walls began to tighten and Steve angled his thrusts to push more directly against his prostate. The voices around them continued, completely unaware as to what was going on in this tiny room. He knew from past experience that their little secret would not be kept for long when James came if he didn't do something. So as his movements became more frenzied and his hands gripped his blond hair tighter Steve reached his hand up over his mouth to stifle his groan. He came up over his stomach, mostly untouched, as he clenched tightly around Steve.

"Fuck!" he stifled his own moans against James’s shoulder and with a few more thrusts he felt himself explode deep inside him. His body slumped against Steve as he leaned back against the wall, the brunet’s body rising and falling with the force of his labored breathing.

The blond knew he needed to get up and dress, but he didn't think his shaky legs could carry him. Any hope he had that the sex would become less intense and that he would get over this obsession was quickly being crushed. Reason was slowly beginning to seep back into his consciousness, along with the disappointment that he had once again allowed himself to succumb to this weakness.

Meeting the younger man’s eyes in the mirror, Steve swore something passed between them. Did he feel the same way Steve did? Was this as big a mistake to him as it was to Steve? And what were they going to do about it? He lifted him off of himself and quickly got redressed, trying not to meet his gaze again. The dressing room area suddenly seemed too quiet and small and Steve was overly aware of each breath they both took.

Straightening his tie, the blond went to grab the door handle and stopped. He almost opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, and moved to continue out of the dressing room. 

This was becoming a serious problem, and Steve was powerless to stop it.


	5. This Can't Happen Again

Bucky had been having issues sleeping all night. He rolled onto his side, certain muscles mocking him and providing undeniable proof of why Bucky was unable to sleep. Chills ran down his spine as he thought back, probably for the hundredth time, to his boss’s words yesterday afternoon.  
"No, I want you to look right there. I want you to watch me fuck you. And tomorrow when you're sore, I want you to remember who did this to you."

He really wasn't kidding. Bucky’s hips and his thighs had never ached so beautifully as they had every time he shifted in his bed tonight. But mostly his ass hurt, obviously due to the pounding it had taken. Bucky groaned breathily as he flipped to his other side, body protesting. This was getting old.

The situation was so insane that he couldn't help but laugh in his silent room. Bucky was fucked in a dressing room seven hours ago. And fucked well. With Mr. Rogers out of the office yesterday morning, he had finished his work and left early, hoping to escape the constant thoughts of his boss. What better way to distract himself than with some shopping? And even then, despite all his efforts to avoid him, there he was, browsing in Armani.

The man might be a complete bastard, but there was no denying he knew what he was doing. And despite the fact that he couldn't stand him, Bucky was loving every minute of it. God, his body was such a traitor. With a huff, he rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes tight, willing sleep to come.

But twenty minutes later, he was still awake. Shit.

Bucky finally fell asleep, drifting in and out of light sleep and soon it was 5:45. Wonderful, just in time to get up for work. But even as he showered and let the warm water loosen his aching muscles, his thoughts were still stuck on why they were in this state.

This really needed to stop. Seriously this time.

When Bucky arrived at work, he bumped into Natasha on his way to the elevator. They made plans to have lunch next week and said goodbye as she reached her floor. Arriving on the eighteenth floor, Bucky noticed that Mr. Rogers's office door was closed, as usual, so he was unsure if he was here yet. The brunet turned on the computer and tried to mentally prepare himself for the day. Why did it feel like every time he sat in this chair lately he was filled with a sense of anxiety? He knew he would see his boss this morning; they went over the schedule for the coming week every Friday. But he was unsure what kind of mood he would be in.

Though recently he noticed Mr. Rogers’s temper tantrums had gotten even worse. Childish little prick.

Answering some emails and making a few hotel inquiries took his mind off the situation for a bit, and about an hour later his office door opened. Looking up, Bucky was met with a very businesslike and calm Mr. Rogers. No trace remained of the reckless and animalistic man who had taken the brunet in the Armani dressing room fourteen hours ago.

"Mr. Barnes? Are you ready to begin?" He asked coolly.

"Yes sir," Bucky answered in a calm collected voice. Okay, so that's how this was going to play out. Fine by Bucky. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but was somewhat relieved that things weren't different.

Grabbing his phone, calendar, and notebook; he walked into his office and took a seat opposite his desk. Immediately Bucky began going over the list of tasks and appointments that needed his attention. He listened quietly, jotting things down or entering them into his computer when needed.

"There is a meeting with E.C. Publishing scheduled for 3:00 this afternoon. Sam and Tony are also planning to attend. It will probably take up the rest of the afternoon, so the rest of today's calendar has been cleared." Eventually, they got to the part he had been dreading. "We also have the IABC Financial Communication Workshops coming up in Seattle next month," Bucky said quickly; suddenly becoming interested in what he was writing in his own calendar. The pause that followed seemed to drag forever, and he glanced up to see what was taking so long. He was staring at his assistant, a pen in hand tapping on the desk and his face completely void of any expression.

"Is that something you will be accompanying me to?" he asked in a flat tone.

"Yes." The silence in the room was deafening. Bucky had no idea what he was thinking, not a trace of emotion in his voice. "Make all the necessary arrangements," he said with an air of finality as he resumed typing on his computer. Prick. Assuming he had been dismissed, Bucky stood from his chair and began walking towards the door.

"Mr. Barnes," Bucky turned to look at him, and even though he didn't meet his gaze, he almost seemed nervous. Well, that was different. "Peggy has asked me to extend an invitation to you for dinner next week."

"Well please tell her I'll look at my schedule," Bucky said, turning to leave again.

"She's also asked that I encourage you to attend." the brunet halted all movement.

Turning back slowly, Bucky saw he was now staring at him, and he definitely looked uncomfortable. "And why exactly would she do that?"

"Well," he said before clearing his throat. "Apparently she has someone she would like to introduce you to." This was new. Bucky had known Peggy for years, but although she might have mentioned a name in passing, she had never actively tried to fix Bucky up with someone.

"Why would she be trying to set me up?" the younger man asked walking back towards his desk and folding his arms over his chest.

"I have no idea," he shrugged casually, but something in his face didn't quite fit his nonchalant answer.

"Why don't I believe you?" Bucky questioned with a raised eyebrow. He was beyond curious now. He never looked uncomfortable. Something was going on. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in obvious annoyance.

"How the hell would I know? It's not like we sit around discussing you," he spat out venomously. If it wasn't for the fact that they were obviously planning something, Bucky might have actually found his reaction humorous. "Maybe she's worried that with that sparkling personality of yours you'll end up an old man with a house full of cats." Oh no he didn't.

Leaning forward with his palms on his desk Bucky glared at him. "Well, maybe she should be more worried that her friend will turn into a dirty old man who can’t find a wife because of his shitty attitude." Check and mate, asshole.

Jumping out of his chair, he leaned toward Bucky, his face furious. "You know, you are the most-" He was cut off as the phone rang. They stared fiercely at each other from across the desk, both of them breathing heavily and for a moment Bucky thought he would throw Bucky down on it… and for another moment he wanted him to. God, he was disgusting. Still glaring at his assistant, he roughly reached for the phone.

"Yes," he barked out sharply into the receiver, his eyes never leaving Buck, and then he pressed the phone to his chest. "That is all, Mr. Barnes." Grabbing  
his things, the brunet turned quickly and closed the door a bit harder than necessary behind him.

For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Mr. Rogers stomped in and out of the office, slamming doors and being his usual charming self. By 2:00, Bucky was inwardly weighing the risks of a personal injury suit if he was caught putting X-Lax in his boss’s precious non-fat-no-sugar peppermint mocha latte.

Looking at the time, he decided against it. Bucky also noticed he had a text message from Mr. Wonderful himself, informing Bucky that he would meet him downstairs in the parking garage to head downtown.

Thank God the other executives and their assistants would be going. If Bucky had to sit in a limo with that man alone for twenty minutes, there were only two possible outcomes. And only one of them left him with his balls intact.

The limo was waiting right outside, and as he made his way to it their driver smiled widely to him and opened the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes. How are you on this beautiful spring afternoon?"

"I'm wonderful, Clint. How's school going?" Bucky smiled back. Clint was my favorite driver, and although he had a tendency to be a bit of a flirt, he always made Bucky smile.

"Oh it's going great. I'm having a bit of trouble in my physics class, but other than that it's fine. Too bad you aren't a scientist, maybe you could tutor me," he said jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"If you two are finished, we actually have somewhere important to be. Maybe you can flirt with Mr. Barnes on your own time, Mr. Barton." Mr. Rogers was apparently already inside waiting for his assistant, and he glared at the two of them as he retreated back into the car. Great. Bucky grinned and rolled his eyes at Clint before stepping inside.

Aside from Mr. Rogers, the car was empty, and when the brunet heard the engine start and they began pulling away he became worried. "Where are the others?" Bucky asked confused.

"They had a dinner meeting after and will meet us there," he responded while busying himself with his laptop. Looking down, Bucky noticed that his boss was nervously tapping his foot. Okay, Bucky could be wrong but something was definitely up.

Sitting on the seat opposite him, Bucky eyed him suspiciously. He didn't look any different. In fact, he looked sexier than hell. He was wearing a perfectly cut designer suit in a deep chocolate brown, an expensive dress shirt in the same color and a beautiful striped silk tie. His hair was its usual blond sexy mess and as he absentmindedly lifted his left hand up to his mouth and put his gold pen between his pouty lips. Bucky actually had to shift in his seat a bit to ease a bit of discomfort that was building.

When he suddenly looked up, the smirk on his face let Bucky know he had been caught ogling him. "See something you like, Mr. Barnes?" he asked mockingly.

"Not really," the brunet replied back with a smirk of his own. The scowl was back in an instant. Mission accomplished.

The eighteen and a half minutes left of their twenty-minute drive were spent trading dirty looks across the car while Bucky tried to pretend he wasn't fantasizing about having his pretty head between his legs.

Needless to say, by the time they got there, Bucky was in a bad mood. Neither of them said a word during the elevator ride upstairs, and the tension did not go unnoticed by either of them. God, he didn't think he’d ever felt so constantly worked up.

The next three hours passed at a snail's pace. The other business members arrived and introductions were made all around. A particularly striking woman named Wanda seemed to take an immediate interest in Mr. Rogers. She was in her early thirties with long dark hair, luminous green eyes, and a body to die for.

And of course, the panty-dropping smile was in full force today as he nearly charmed her unconscious.

Everyone convened in a large board room to begin the meeting, and Bucky really tried to pay attention, but memories of another conference table kept entering his mind. At one point, Mr. Rogers stood at the head of the table going over some numbers on a spreadsheet and made a point to ask the younger man a question when he obviously wasn't paying attention. Bucky swore he could have killed him right there. The look on his face let Bucky know he knew exactly what the brunet was thinking. He was pure evil. Bucky spent the rest of the meeting shooting mental daggers at his balls and groaning internally as he realized they still had the twenty-minute car ride to look forward to.

When they walked back into the office at the end of the day, after an even more tense drive back, it still seemed like Mr. Rogers had something to say. And if he didn't do it soon, Bucky was going to explode. It seemed like when he wanted his boss to be quiet he couldn't keep his shit mouth shut. But when Bucky needed him to say something, he became a mute. A sense of deja vu and dread filled the brunet as they made their way through the semi-deserted building and toward the elevator. The second those gold doors closed Bucky wished he were anywhere but standing next to him. Did it feel like there was suddenly less oxygen in there? Glancing at his reflection in the polished brass doors, it was hard to tell how he felt. Other than the constant clenching of his jaw and his downcast eyes, he looked completely cool. Bastard.

Reaching the eighteenth floor, Bucyk let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That had to have been the longest forty-two seconds of his life. He followed Mr. Rogers through the door, trying to keep his eyes off of him as he quickly entered his own office. But to Bucky’s surprise, he didn't close the door behind him. He always closed his door. Bucky made quick work of checking for messages and wrapping up a few last-minute details before he could leave for the weekend. The brunet didn't think he'd ever been in more of a hurry to get out of there. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The last time they were alone on this floor Bucky had made a pretty quick getaway. Shit, if there was ever a time to not think about that, it would be now, in the empty office. Just Bucky and him.

He left his office right as Bucky was gathering his things, placing an ivory envelope on the younger man’s desk and continuing to the door without pausing. What the hell was this? Quickly opening the envelope he saw his name on several pieces of elegant ivory paper. It was paperwork for a private credit account at Armani, with Mr. Steve Rogers as the account holder. Holy shit. He opened Bucky a credit account?

"What the fuck is this?" Bucky seethed, jumping from his chair and turning to face him. "You opened me a line of credit?" he was absolutely livid. How dare he?

Stopping mid-stride and hesitating slightly, he turned to face his assistant. "I made a phone call today, and arranged for you to purchase whatever you… need. There's no limit on the account," he stated flatly, having wiped all trace of discomfort from his face. This is why he was such a master at what he did.

He had an uncanny ability to regain control of any situation. But did he honestly think he could control Bucky?

"So you arranged," Bucky said, shaking his head and trying to keep some semblance of calm, "to buy me more clothes."

"Well, just to replace the things that I…" he stopped, possibly rethinking his response. "The things that have been damaged. If you don't want it, don't fucking use it," he said angrily turning to leave again.

"You fucking son of a bitch." the brunet moved to stand in front of him, the crisp stationary now a mangled ball of paper in his clenched fist. "Do you think this is funny? Do you think I'm some plaything you can just dress up for your amusement?" Bucky didn't know who he was angrier with him for thinking of Bucky that way, or Bucky for allowing this thing to start in the first place.

He scoffed, "Oh yes, Mr. Barnes. I find this absolutely hilarious."

Bucky knew this was headed somewhere dangerous and had to get the hell out of there before he did something he would regret. "Take this and shove it up your ass." the brunet shoved the papers into the blond’s chest and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. Glaring at him fiercely, Bucky sneered, "I am not your whore, Mr. Rogers." Pushing him aside, Bucky literally sprinted to the elevator. Fucking egotistical ass. Logically the brunet knew that he hadn't meant to insult Bucky; at least he hoped not. But this? This was exactly why you don't fuck your boss. God, Bucky assumed he missed that during orientation.

"Mr. Barnes!" he shouted, but Bucky ignored him and stepped into the lift. Come on, he said to himself as he repeatedly pushed the button for the parking garage. His face appeared just as the doors closed and the brunet smiled to himself as he flipped his boss off. Real mature, Bucky.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" he yelled into the empty elevator, practically stomping his feet. That was it. No more. He might be hotter than hell and have a dick that makes Bucky’s body sing, but he was out of this fucking sick situation.

The elevator chimed, signaling that he'd reached the garage, muttering to himself he made his way to his car. The garage was dimly lit and his was one of the only cars left on this level, but he was too furious to even give it a second thought. He'd hate to see the unlucky prick who dared mess with him right now.

Just as that thought entered Bucky’s mind, he heard the stairwell door burst open and Mr. Rogers call out from behind him. Just perfect.

"Holy shit! Will you fucking wait?" he shouted. It did not escape Bucky’s attention that he was out of breath. Apparently, sprinting down eighteen flights of stairs would do that to a person.

Unlocking his car, Bucky jerked open the door, throwing his jacket and briefcase onto the passenger seat. "What the fuck do you want, Rogers?"

"Will you just give me a minute? God, can you take it out of bitch mode for two shit seconds and listen to me?" he panted.

Bucky spun around to face him. "Do you think I'm some kind of fucking toy?" A million different emotions flashed across his face; anger, shock, confusion, hate; and fuck Bucky if he didn't look delicious. His tie was loosened, his hair a fucking mess and the bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw was not helping the situation. Bucky was pissed dammit! Why is it that even with everything going on, he couldn't stop picturing his boss bending him over his desk?

Keeping a careful distance with one hand pushed into his hair he smirked and shook his head. "Shit," he hissed, looking around the garage. "You think you're my toy? Fuck, it was just in case…" He stopped, trying to organize his thoughts.

"What? You think it's actually going to happen again?" Bucky said, unable to hide the disgust from his voice.

"God no!" he shouted, the sound echoing off the cement walls. "Maybe I'm just sick of you being such a cocktease and then handing me receipts," he added, glaring at his assistant and waiting for some kind of response. The rage was coursing through Bucky so strongly that before he could stop himself, he stepped forward and slapped his boss hard across the face. With a shocked and furious glare, he reached up and touched the spot where Bucky had struck him.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You aren't getting anywhere near me. Ever. Again. " It was sick, but even as he said the words, he could feel his dick jump.

The silence stretched before them; the sounds of the traffic and the outside world barely registering in his consciousness. "You know," he began with a dark stare, taking a single step towards Bucky. "I've said it before but…I didn't hear you complaining."

Oh, that smooth fucker. "In that dressing room." Another step. "When you watched me fuck you." And another. "I didn't hear one thing out of that fucking mouth of yours to convince me you didn't enjoy every minute."

Bucky’s chest was heaving, and he could feel the metal of his car hit his back.

"Well, it's not happening again," Bucky hissed through clenched teeth, they were almost the same height, with Bucky a few inches shorter than his blond counterpart.

"No. Of course not," he answered back, shaking his head softly and moving even closer to Bucky, his hard erection now brushing the brunet’s hip. Putting a hand on either side of his assistant, he pressed his hard-muscled body closer to the younger man, and Bucky had to stifle a groan.

"Maybe," the brunet growled, unsure if he meant to say it aloud or not.

"Just one," he said, his mouth moving achingly closer to Bucky.

Turning his face up, the brunet sneered into his open mouth. "I fucking hate you."

"I hate this too." their mouths hovered tauntingly close to each other, their lips barely brushing, each sharing the other's breath. He watched the blond’s nostrils flare slightly and just when Bucky thought he was going to go insane, his boss took his lower lip roughly between his and pulled Bucky sharply to him. Growling into his mouth, he deepened the kiss and pushed the brunet forcefully against the car.

Their kisses were teasing and rough; coming together and pulling apart, hands fisting in hair and tongues sliding against each other. Bucky gasped as the blond bent his knees slightly, bringing his hard cock roughly against Bucky’s own. "God," Bucky moaned in a raspy breath.

"Fuck, I know," he breathed heavily into his assistant's mouth. Mr. Rogers brought his hands down to Bucky’s waist and teased, "Such a little tease." the brunet instantly felt another wave of arousal flood through him, and his pants were suddenly getting tighter. He should slap him again for saying things like that to him; but when he said it in that deep whispered voice, it only made Bucky want him more.

He pulled away, his lust-filled eyes meeting Bucky’s. "Get in the fucking car," his voice rumbled deep in his throat as he pulled the door open roughly.

Bucky stood glaring at him, willing rational thought to penetrate his clouded brain. What should he do?

What did Bucky want? Could he just let him have his body like this again? Fuck. Bucky was so overpowered with the emotions coursing through him that he was trembling. Rational thought was quickly abandoning him as he felt a hand run up his neck and into his brown hair. Gripping it tightly the blond jerked his head towards him and glared into Bucky’s eyes. "Now." Bucky knew in that moment, he was fighting a losing battle. As much as he tried to deny it, his body was Mr. Rogers’s.

The decision was made, and once again Bucky wrapped his silk tie around his own wrist, pulling him into the backseat. Once the door closed behind him, he wasted no time tearing off his jacket and going straight for the buttons of the front of Bucky’s dress shirt, trying his best to undo them without ripping the shirt like he had in the past, but ultimately he got frustrated and ripped the last few buttons. Bucky groaned as he felt him part the material and run his hands across Bucky’s bare skin. Pushing Bucky back to lie on the cool leather and kneeling between his legs, he placed his hand on the planes of Bucky’s chest, fingers gliding and causing goosebumps to rise. The muscles of his abdomen clenched with every movement and Bucky tried to control his breathing as his fingers moved to tease a nipple.

Bucky pulled him to himself by his shirt and slid his tongue into his boss’s mouth, groaning as his palm pressed against Bucky’s straining cock. Their lips searched; their kisses long and deep, gaining urgency with every inch of skin uncovered. Bucky’s hands pulled his shirt from his pants and explored his muscular arms, and carved chest. Bucky needed him undressed, his only thought being that he wanted him naked and above Bucky.

Wanting to tease him the way he was teasing Bucky, the brunet ran his fingers down his abdomen, across his belt and to the rock hard bulge now straining against his pants.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned into his assistant’s mouth. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

"Tell me," Bucky whispered back. "Tell me and I'll give you what you want." he was using his boss’s own words against him, and just knowing the tables were somehow turned for the moment spurred Bucky on. "Tell me what you want, you little tease."

"Fuck" he moaned and bit his lip, his forehead pressed against the younger man’s as he shuttered. "I want you to ride me," he growled out. Then pulling back to look at Bucky, pure loathing twisting his features, he added, "And I fucking hate you for it." The raw passion between them was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and if this was the last time Bucky would feel this, he didn't want the blond holding back.

"You want me to ride you huh?" the brunet sneered, pulling his leg forward and pushing him back and off himself.

Sitting up, Bucky shoved him against the seat back and straddled his lap. Gripping his shirt in his hands, Bucky pulled it open roughly, sending the buttons scattering along the seat.

"You fucking bitch," he spit out at Bucky. He quickly pulled Bucky’s shirt off his shoulders and the brunet cut him off by crashing his own mouth onto his boss’s. His hands gripped Bucky roughly pulling his hips against himself.

The younger man’s senses were overwhelmed, and he knew he couldn't last much longer. He wanted the blond inside him so badly, his own erection was throbbing for it. He was lost to everything but him and this. The feel of the air against his skin, the ragged sounds of their breathing, the heat of the kiss, and the thought of what was ahead.

With frantic hands, Bucky undid his own belt and pants, and with help managed to get them down his legs. The brunet’s hands moved down to help the blond with his own pants, ridding him of his clothing as well. Mr. Rogers made sure to grab the travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom from his slacks before dropping them to the floor of the car. Good thing he always seemed to be prepared for these types of interactions, Bucky wondered distantly if he always had those with him.

Settling over him he brushed against Bucky; their cocks grinding together when Bucky moved to claim his mouth in a searing kiss again. As they kissed, a hand snaked around to tease the rim of Bucky’s entrance. He teased for some time as they kissed before, eventually, pushing a single finger in slowly. He was always so attentive when opening Bucky up, and Bucky absently thanked God for it.

It wasn't long before a second and then a third finger was added to scissor and open him up comfortably. He removed his hand, knowing Bucky’s body well enough by now to know that he was ready for him. He opened the condom wrapper with his teeth, breaking the kiss and rolling the condom on.

Bucky adjusted his position, the tip pushing against Bucky’s entrance and the brunet pulled his blond hair forcing those blue eyes to meet his own and slid slowly down onto him.

"Oh, God" Bucky groaned, the sensation of him sinking into his body shooting pleasure to his neglected cock. Lifting his hips, Bucky began to ride him, each movement feeling more intense than the one before. The pain from his rough fingertips on the brunet’s hips only fueled his lust. His eyes were closed and his moans were muffled against Bucky’s neck. Moving his lips across the younger man’s shoulder and down to his chest, and took Bucky’s hardened nipples between his teeth. The brunet gripped his blond hair tightly and elicited a moan from him, his mouth opening and drawing circles with his tongue around the nipple.

With each thrust, Bucky lost more of his resolve. His body was so in tune with the man below him; it reacted to his every look and touch and sound. Bucky both hated and loved how he made him feel. He'd never been one to lose control, but the responses his boss elicited from his body could no longer be denied.

"Do you like it?" Bucky taunted. "How do you like being fucked with, little tease?"

He gripped his assistant’s hips tighter halting Bucky’s movements and stared up at him. "You just don't know when to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, do you?" he snarled with a glare. And as Bucky raised his hand to smack him again, he caught the brunet by the wrist and shook his head. "You want to see being fucked with?"

Before Bucky could answer the blond lifted him off and roughly threw the younger man down onto the seat. Pushing his legs apart he plunged into him again. Bucky moaned loudly as he began driving into him. Bucky’s car was too small for this, but there was nothing that could have stopped them now. Even with his legs bent awkwardly below him and with Bucky’s arms braced above him to protect his own head from the door, the pleasure was overwhelming.

Pulling himself onto his knees, and into a more comfortable position, the blond picked up one of Bucky’s legs and placed it over his shoulder, forcing his cock deeper inside him. "Oh God, yes," Bucky panted.

"Yes?" he groaned out, lifting Bucky’s other leg to rest across his other shoulder. Reaching out he gripped the door frame and used it for leverage to deepen his thrusts. "Is that how you like it?" The change in angle caused the brunet to gasp, as the most delicious sensations spread throughout his body where the blond pushed along his prostate.

With his hands pushing off the door, Bucky lifted his hips off the seat to meet each motion of his hips. "Oh fuck, yes. Harder," he moaned loudly.

"Fuck," his boss murmured as he continued pumping his hips. By now their bodies were glistening with sweat, the windows were completely fogged up and their groans filled the silent space of the car. The dim glow from the garage lights emphasized every carved indentation and muscle of the masterpiece above Bucky. Bucky watched him in awe; his body was straining with the effort, his blond hair mussed and sticking to his damp forehead, the tendons in his neck pulled tight, and he was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen.

Ducking his head between his outstretched arms, he met Bucky’s eyes for a brief moment. Their gazes locked and their breaths were coming out in gasps; they were both close. Closing his eyes tightly he shook his head. "Oh God," he panted. "Fuck… I can't stop."

"Me either," Bucky gasped, mirroring his look of desperation. Lifting his head up off the seat, the brunet placed a hand on each side of his face and pulled his lips to his own in a filthy kiss. Every nerve in his body was begging for release and each rough plunge of his rigid cock inside Bucky, nailing his prostate, pushing him closer to the edge.

For one brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have his body whenever Bucky wanted, having him in his bed fucking him with wild abandon. The thought alone was enough to send an explosion ricocheting through Bucky and he gripped his blond hair tightly.

"Aaghh…Fuck!" Bucky almost screamed, his walls clenching hard around his cock.

"God…Fuck…Fuck!" His voice was deep and raspy and with one last powerful thrust he tensed above Bucky, his dick pulsing as he came. Exhausted and shaking, he removed the brunet’s legs from his shoulders, gently placing them on the seat beside his hips and collapsing with his face against Bucky’s neck. He couldn't resist the urge to run his trembling hands through his damp blond hair one last time as they lay there panting, his heart racing against Bucky’s chest. A million thoughts raced through his mind as the minutes passed. Slowly their breathing calmed and Bucky almost thought Mr. Rogers had fallen asleep when he moved his head away.

Bucky’s body was instantly chilled as he pulled away from him and started getting dressed. Bucky watched him for a moment before sitting up and also redressing himself. This was the most passionate thing he'd ever experienced. The sex between them was more intense than he knew possible. He felt completely drawn to him physically, but that was it. How could Bucky want someone so much sexually and want nothing to do with them in any other way?

"This can't happen again." He said, startling Bucky from his own thoughts. he turned to look at him; he was shrugging on his torn shirt, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. Moments passed before he turned to look at Bucky. "Do we understand each other, Mr. Barnes?" the brunet knew what he had to do.

"Tell Peggy I'll be there, Mr. Rogers. And get the hell out of my car."


	6. Possessive

The burning in his chest was almost enough to distract him from the torment inside his head. Almost. Reaching out, Steve increased the incline on the treadmill and pushed himself harder. It always worked.

That was how he lived his life. There was nothing he couldn't accomplish if he just pushed hard enough; school, career, family, women, men. Shit. Man. Disgusted, he shook his head and turned up the volume on his phone, hoping it would distract his mind long enough to get some fucking peace.

Steve should have known it wouldn't work. No matter how hard he tried, it was always there. He closed his eyes and it all came back; hovering over him, feeling him wrapped around Steve, sweaty, aching, wanting to stop but not being able to. Being inside of him was the most perfect torture. It satiated the hunger he felt at that moment, but like a junkie Steve found himself consumed by the need for more as soon as it ended. He'd been with a lot of men and women in his life but had never experienced anything this all-consuming. In those moments with him, he'd do anything James asked. He brought Steve to his knees and made him weak. And that's why it had to stop; why Steve had to say the words out loud. So it was clear to both of them that it couldn't happen again. They'd never really talked about this thing that was happening, and he thought that was for the best. Because once it was said, it was real. And he knew that if he could just control himself long enough and wean himself from this addiction; He'd get it out of his system. He had to. There was no other option.

Steve felt the earbud being tugged from his ear along with the sudden disruption of his blaring music. He tried to keep pace with the treadmill but had to slow it down so he wouldn't fall. The blond turned his head towards the source of his annoyance on the next machine. "Tony, what?!"

"You keep that up, we're gonna be peeling you off the floor and investing in hearing aids for you before you're even thirty, bro," he replied, shaking his head. "What'd James do to piss you off this time?"

Steve watched him roll his eyes as he spoke and the blond felt his stomach tighten at the sound of his name. He focused his attention back on the treadmill and increased the speed again. "What makes you think this has anything to do with Mr. Barnes?"

"Um, maybe because your nostrils just flared twice as much as usual when you said that," Tony pointed out and he looked over to see that annoying 'know-it-all' grin on his face.

"For your information, smart ass, there is absolutely nothing bothering me. And even if there was, it would have nothing to do with my assistant," Steve said nonchalantly, trying to return his focus to his workout.

"You are so full of shit," he laughed heartily, shaking his head. "I've never met anyone who gets this kind of reaction out of you. And you know why, don't you?" He had shut off his machine and was now focusing all his attention on Steve. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little unnerving. Tony was perceptive; too perceptive at times. And if there was ever anything Steve wanted to keep from him, it was this.

The blond kept his gaze forward as he ran, trying not to meet his eyes. "No, but something tells me you're going to fill me in."

"Because you two are too much alike," he said smugly. Was he fucking insane?

"What!?" Several people turned to see why Steve was yelling at his friend in the middle of the crowded gym. He stopped the machine and turned to face him. "How could you even think that? Mr. Barnes and I are nothing alike." Steve was sweaty, out of breath, and exhausted from running six miles; but right now, the rise in his blood pressure had nothing to do with his workout.

Taking a long drink from his water bottle, Tony continued to smirk. "Who do you think you're talking to? I've never met two people more alike. First of all," he paused, clearing his throat and bringing his hand up to dramatically tick things off on his fingers. "You're both intelligent, determined, hard-working, loyal, and have the biggest hearts I've ever seen. And," he continued, pointing a finger at Steve. "He's the first person in your entire life that stands up to you and doesn't follow you around like some lost puppy dog."

Had everyone lost their minds? Sure he might be some of those things; even Steve couldn't deny that his assistant was incredibly intelligent. And he was a hard worker; the blond was often surprised at how well he kept up with things. James was definitely determined, although Steve would describe it more along the lines of pig-headed or stubborn. And there was no question of his loyalty. He could have sold Steve out a hundred times since they'd started this sick game. But big-hearted? Steve really didn't know anything about that.

He stood, glaring at Tony as he tried to formulate his response. "Yeah, well he's also a raving bitch."

Stepping down, Steve quickly wiped off his machine and made his way across the gym in an effort to escape.

"Pffft," Tony scoffed behind him and laughed. "Keep telling yourself that."

Lying on his back, Steve began counting off sit-ups; almost groaning when Tony chose to lie on the mat next to his. He was up to 154 and contemplating putting his headphones back in when he decided to speak, "Honestly man, do you not see the truth in any of this?"

Steve stopped, letting out an exasperated sigh, and looked at him. "Look, it's not that-," he paused not even knowing what he wanted to say. "I'll admit that Mr. Barnes has his strong points. But beyond that, I don't have much to add. It's no secret that we don't get along personally and I really don't see the need to keep having this discussion. It doesn't interfere with our working relationship, so topic closed."

He was quiet for a few moments before speaking again. "All I'm saying is that I think you two are more alike than you think. And maybe if you try to respect him for that, it will make things easier." Ignoring him, Steve continued with his sit-ups. He was done talking about this.

Five minutes later, Tony sat up. "Well, I think I'm heading home. You still coming over for lunch today?" he asked, gathering his things as he rose.

"Yeah, I'll be here for at least another hour," Steve said.

Tony nodded and then opened his mouth to ask, "Pepper wanted me to see if you managed to convince James to make it to dinner Saturday?"

Suddenly becoming interested in how his shoelaces were tied, Steve answered, "Yeah, he said he'd be there." he purposefully didn't meet Tony’s gaze hoping he would quit and leave. Unfortunately, Steve is not that lucky.

"Am I the only one here who thinks it's hilarious that Peggy wants to set him up with Brock Rumlow?"

There went that feeling in his chest again. What the fuck was that about? Sam had gone to high school with Brock, and he was a pretty decent guy, but something about the thought of the two of them together made Steve feel like he wanted to punch something. "I mean, Brock is great, but James is a bit out of his league. Don't you think? He'll be the luckiest son of a bitch alive if he can pull that off," he chuckled turning to leave again. "Later, bro!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Yeah, later," Steve mumbled. Suddenly feeling the need to expend a bit more energy, he moved to the punching bags to relieve some stress.

An hour and a half later, he pulled into the garage of his condominium. Shutting off the engine he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. It didn't escape his notice that in trying to keep the memories of last night out of his mind, he had nearly driven his body into the ground.

He opened his eyes and grabbed his gym bag and moved to open the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers," The doorman greeted him, and he did his best to remove the grimace from his face and smile. Judging from the concerned look he gave me, Steve didn't think he was successful. He lived on the 87th floor in one of the most luxurious and prestigious complexes in all of Manhattan, and as he walked in the door, he felt his nerves calm a bit.

Walking into the kitchen he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and headed into his room. His favorite part about living here was the floor to ceiling windows that graced every exterior wall. His room was no exception, and the view it afforded was spectacular; especially at night. Although, he had to admit that the thoughts those windows evoked over the last two weeks had changed dramatically.

Fucking windows were giving him hard-ons now. Shit. Sighing, he threw his bag onto the bed and stripped off his shirt as he headed into the bathroom.

Letting the shower warm up, he began to strip off the rest of his clothes. He looked down to see he was already half-hard just from scattered thoughts. His hand subconsciously traveled down the length of his body and wrapped around the base of his cock. He knew he didn't want to do this. Not here. His home was the one place his assistant hadn't invaded. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had jerked off to thoughts of him more times here than anywhere else, but nothing of his had actually been here.

He stroked himself twice over and he was instantly taken back to last night. He hadn't meant to make him upset with the credit account. To be honest, he didn't really know what his intent was. Was it to replace the things he'd ruined or to provide new ones? Fuck. If he didn't understand it, how the hell could he expect him to? Before he had even known what he was doing he had made a quick phone call and set it up. He'd been a mess all day going back and forth over whether this was a good idea. He'd almost handed it to James twice; the first time when they'd been going over the schedule and the second in the limo. And each time he'd been distracted or chickened out.

Finally, as he walked out, he'd gotten the balls to just do it, and tossed the papers on his desk as he passed.

What the blond wasn't prepared for was his reaction. And when he'd gotten offended, he didn't know how to respond. He was bombarded with so many different emotions; anger that he thought this was all a game to Steve, shocked that he would have so little respect for Steve’s character, hurt that he was upset, and lust at his anger. Fighting with this man turned Steve on more than anything. That was something he was surely going to need to seek therapy for one day.

When he'd shoved the papers back at Steve and walked out, he knew the smart thing would be to just let him go, but he couldn't. Steve ran down eighteen fucking flights of stairs to find him, and even then he surprised the hell out of him. He tried to explain himself, but he wouldn't even shut up long enough for Steve to get a word in.

And then he fucking hit Steve. He’d never had anyone hit him like that before. He'd deserved it plenty of times, but no one had ever had the guts to do it. Steve didn't know whether to hate him, respect him, or just fuck the hell out of him. And before he knew it their mouths were inches apart. He could taste his breath and he wanted more than anything to close the gap and feel his lips on his own. For all he'd done tonight, Steve still wanted him, and his body moved closer to James’s as if by gravitational force. He whispered 'maybe' so quietly he didn't know if it was meant for him or Steve. That little word struck the blond so hard the chest that it ached. He wanted it so badly. He wanted him one more time.

He said he hated Steve. He knew he hated Steve; hated the way they were together. Steve hated it too. But even as much as they despised each other, there was no denying the perfect way their bodies melded together. He'd never been with anyone who made him feel as if he was with his equal. But he matched Steve with every word, every kiss, and every touch. And he just needed to feel that way one more time; to be with someone he didn't hold back with. James teased him and tortured him and Steve knew he would still come back on his knees for more. And that is what he hated the most.

As anger and resentment rushed through him, he kissed him and roughly pressed against his body. It felt so fucking good to feel him and Steve’s cock was so hard it was throbbing. When he pulled Steve into the car, his senses were overwhelmed. Everything about James was so concentrated in the small space and Steve frantically began undressing him. He nearly came the moment he saw James fully undressed. 

His walls were dangerously close to slipping. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he had said.

And he toyed with him; making Steve tell him. What did he want to hear? That Steve jacked off almost every day to fantasies about him? That even though he resisted, the images of his cock moving in and out of him filled his dreams at night? So he told James. He wanted him to ride Steve, and that he hated him for it. No words he'd ever said had been more true.

Once again he met Steve’s challenge. Pushing the blond off him, he straddled his hips and tore open his shirt.

He'd never been so turned on in his life as he was in that moment. He heard the buttons scatter along the leather seats and his only thought was that he needed to be inside him. And fuck, every time he felt him it was better than the last. James’s hips rocked back and forth, taking him deeper, making Steve pant and groan into his shoulder.

Time lost all meaning when Steve threw him onto the seat, intending to teach him a lesson. Steve needed more and he placed his legs on the blond’s shoulders, driving himself deeper inside. But somewhere inside that quiet dark space, alone with only the sounds of their pleasure, something changed. The anger was replaced by… desperation? Desperation because Steve was losing himself to the brunet. Desperation because this would be over soon and he'd never see this man beneath him again. And he didn't want that, because as much as he hated what the brunet made him feel, Steve wanted it again and again. he wanted it every day and every night. Steve wanted to see him on his bed and to hear him scream Steve’s name. "Oh God," Steve had panted. "Fuck… I can't stop." One more wall came down. When they were together this way, his mask was gone. And just as he started to panic the brunet saved him.

"Me either." Never before had he been so soothed by two simple words. He felt it too. They didn't have to explain; they understood. In this way, they were the same. Two selfish people taking from the other, and for a moment Steve wondered if it could continue. Was there a way to be like this, to have each other's bodies and nothing more? He began to tighten around the blond, coaxing Steve closer to his orgasm. He tried to hold on, to make this last but the brunet’s climax spurred Steve’s own and soon he was grunting and thrusting and cumming deep inside him.

Completely exhausted, Steve removed his legs and collapsed onto him. He wanted to be careful, but he couldn't find the strength. This was so different, lying together like this. He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair and his eyes closed. His mind was telling him it was time to go; to put the walls back up, but Steve’s body begged him to stay. Eventually, as reality came back into focus, Steve’s brain won out and he pulled away from him. Even though the situation was far from funny, Steve almost smiled as he pulled his torn shirt on. Was it really only two weeks ago that James had run from Steve wearing a similarly ripped shirt? Once again he had turned the tables.

Clenching his jaw tightly, it all came back. This just couldn't continue. Steve was his boss, he was his employee. He'd already broken about a hundred corporate rules not to mention moral ones. And as much as the idea of using each other for sex appealed to Steve, it would never work. Even though they didn't consider each other friends, or even like each other for that matter; Steve could never put him in that kind of position. They had already put themselves in a dangerous situation; if anyone saw them…well, Steve couldn't even think of that. And he knew for a fact that he didn't want what being with him would mean. He didn't want any type of actual relationship with James.

"This can't happen again," he said, not even looking at him. And then because he knew he had to make him hate Steve more, he glanced over to him and added. "Do we understand each other, Mr. Barnes?"

The look on his face was that of confusion. Even Steve could see how he would be confused. Steve’s words and actions hadn't exactly gone hand in hand. But then his expression changed, and the blond knew he was in trouble. Good. "Tell Peggy I'll be there, Mr. Rogers. And get the hell out of my car."

Shit. He knew it. Suddenly he didn't want to leave. He knew what the brunet’s agreeing to go meant. He wanted to meet Brock. Fuck.

Steve was brought back to reality by his phone ringing. Jumping slightly, he searched through his bag to find it. Peggy. Not right now, he would call her later. Looking down at his lap, he remembered he had another problem; he was still, obviously, hard as a rock. This is exactly why he had tried to avoid thinking of last night. Tossing his phone back onto his bed, he got up to head to the shower. He had to stop thinking about sex with his assistant, that part of their relationship was over and they would have to continue to see each other each day and keep their distance. No problem, Steve could do that. Shaking his head, he got into the shower and wrapped his right hand around his dick. He had a problem to take care of before he met his friends for lunch.

\---

He was determined to have a relaxing afternoon, with no intruding thoughts of Mr. Barnes at all, as he entered Tony’s house. "Hello? Anybody here?" Steve called out as he closed the door behind himself. 

Steve met up Tony and Pepper in the kitchen before they moved to head out to eat.

They ended up at the old diner where they used to hang out during high school. They were in the middle of a conversation about who knows what when a voice sounded behind them.

"Pepper Potts?"

Pepper looked up at the stranger and a shocked smile graced her face. "James Rhodes? Oh my god," she laughed excitedly and stood up to hug him. Steve glanced over at Tony who was giving the man the once over with a raised eyebrow and then turned Steve’s gaze to join his friend’s. Tony cleared his throat and she pulled away from him and looked over to them. "Oh, sorry. This is James, we were summer camp counselors in high school together. James, this is my husband, Tony Stark and this is his friend, Steve Rogers."

James was still shaking Tony's hand when Pepper motioned to Steve and his eyes went wide. "Steve Rogers? As in Rogers Inc.?" he asked in an almost astonished tone and Steve nodded cautiously. "So you're the S… I mean, you're James's boss, aren't you? Well the other James, now there are two of us."

The…James's boss? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Steve nodded again. "Yes, Mr. Barnes works for me," he answered warily, looking down to slowly shake his extended hand. So much for having a peaceful afternoon without thinking of him. Steve felt his jaw tighten slightly as he observed him. "And how are you acquainted with Mr. Barnes?"

A smile came to his face and Steve immediately wanted to knock his teeth down his throat. "Oh, he's friends with my friend, Natasha," he replied and then looked at his watch. "Which speaking of, I better get her lunch back to her. It was nice seeing you again, Pepper."

Pepper smirked slightly as she linked arms with James. "Here, I'll walk you to the door," she replied in an almost amused tone as they walked away. Heading towards the door, Steve watched her immediately lean over to say something into his ear. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Well at least he's fucking his friend and not him; Steve thought and then shook his head. Where the hell did that come from?

He looked over to his brother who was smirking just as his wife had. "What's so funny, Tony?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," he chuckled as he popped another french fry in his mouth and then avoided Steve’s eyes.

Peper returned a moment later, laughing as she settled back beside Tony. "Well, that was interesting. What a small world huh, Steve?" she said in an almost teasing voice, a glint in her eye.

Steve furrowed his brow watching the both of them as if they were both sharing some kind of inside joke.

It was beginning to really irritate Steve, but he looked at Tony and his wife and replied anyway. "Oh yes, truly fascinating."

\---

Sunday night as he lay in bed, he replayed his plan in his head. Steve just had to be tough, and make it a week.

Seven days, he could do that. Seven days of not touching his assistant and this thing would be out of his system and he could move on with his life. There were just a few precautions he had to take.

First of all, he couldn't be alone with him for more than a few minutes, for any reason. Second, Steve couldn't be goaded into arguing with James. For some sick reason, the two of them arguing was like some sick form of foreplay. And third, no more fantasizing about him. That meant no more reliving sexual encounters, no more fantasizing about new ones, and no more picturing him naked or with any of Steve’s body parts coming in contact with any of his.

And for the most part, things seemed to go according to plan. Steve was in a constant state of discomfort and the week seemed to drag on, but aside from a lot of dirty fantasies, he had remained in control. He tried his best to stay busy outside the office, but during the times they were forced together, he kept a constant distance, and for the most part, they treated each other with the same polite disdain as they had before.

But part of him swore he was trying to break Steve. Each day it seemed that Mr. Barnes looked sexier than the day before. Every day there was something about what he wore or did that brought Steve’s mind back to the gutter. He'd made a deal with himself that there would be no more lunchtime 'sessions'. Steve had to stop this and imagining him while masturbating wasn't going to help. He hadn't jacked off once all week and was walking around with the worst case of blue balls he'd ever had.

As Steve walked in Friday morning he prayed that maybe James would call in sick. But Steve knew he wasn't that lucky. He was horny and in a particularly bad mood, and when he opened the office door he almost had a heart attack. He was wearing a fitted charcoal grey suit that made him look so hot and accentuated his gre-blue eyes. 

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers," he said sweetly, stopping Steve as he passed him. Something was up. He never said anything sweetly to his boss. Turning slowly, he eyed the brunet suspiciously.

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes." he replied coolly. "You seem to be in an exceptionally cordial mood today. Did somebody die?" Steve asked, not even trying to hide his annoyance.

His smile dropped for a fraction of a second before the corner of his mouth lifted in a devilish smirk.

"Oh no. I'm just so excited to meet your friend Brock at dinner tomorrow. Tony’s told me all about him. I think we really might have a lot in common."

Son of a bitch. Steve’s mouth dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh yes, dinner tomorrow. I'd completely forgotten. Yes, you and Brock…well since he's a mama's boy and you're an overbearing shrew you two should even each other out pretty well." Nice one, Rogers. "I'll take some coffee now, Mr. Barnes," the blond said smugly as he turned and headed into his office. So much for the rule about not arguing with him. As he set his things down, the thought occurred to him that it may not be in his best interest to have James make his coffee. One of these days he was liable to put something in it.

Sitting at his desk, Steve tried to get to work. God, why was this thing with Brock bothering him so much?

He'd considered the fact that he could be jealous. But that was ridiculous; he didn't want any type of relationship with James. He just wanted to be able to fuck him whenever and wherever he wanted with no strings attached. Was that so bad? Shit. That was bad even for Steve.

Besides that, he wouldn't be interested in him, would he? Hadn't Tony said that he was out of his league? Was he? Hell yeah, he was.

And he knew that one day, whether now or later, someone was going to steal him away. Wait, did I just say steal him? Steve had to get himself together. He knew he dated sometimes. He'd even seen flowers delivered to the office once or twice. But it had never brought out this…possessive feeling in Steve.

Yeah, that was the word. Possessive. It wasn't jealousy, because that would mean that he had some sort of romantic feelings for him. Possessive implied that he...well that they...Fuck.

Frustrated, Steve stood up and ran his hands roughly through his hair as he walked towards the large plate glass windows. Even Steve couldn't make this not sound crazy. How had this even happened? Nine months ago he was living his life happily. He had everything a man could want. He was wealthy and successful. He had his choice of any woman or man he desired, and now? Here he was, a total fucking mess over some angry man he didn't even want. Well he wanted him, just not like…God, Steve couldn't think about this anymore.

Steve was interrupted from his insane ramblings by a knock at his door.

"Come in," the blond grumbled irritably. It was obvious that he was still pissed as he walked in and headed straight for his desk. Placing Steve’s coffee down, he turned to look at his boss.

"Are we having the scheduling meeting this morning, Mr. Rogers?" he was standing near Steve’s desk in a pool of sunlight. Shadows draped across his figure. Steve’s mind tried to race, to think too hard about his assistant, he was already starting to get hard just being in the room with only James for this long. Fuck. He had to get the hell out of here before something happened

"No. I forgot about a meeting I have downtown this afternoon. So, I'll be leaving for the day in about 10 minutes. Just email me all the details," Steve replied quickly heading for the safety and coverage of his desk.

"I wasn't aware of any meeting today," he asked skeptically, his brows coming together and his lower lip pouting a bit.

"No, you wouldn't have been," Steve said, suddenly becoming interested in the papers on his desk. "It's personal." When he didn't respond the blond chanced a glance up, he had a strange expression on his face.

What was that look? He obviously looked mad, but there was something else. Was he…was he jealous? God Steve hoped so. What the fuck, Rogers?

"Oh," he answered softly, chewing on his lower lip. "Is it someone I know?" he never asked Steve questions about where he was going. "I mean, just in case any of your business partners need to get a hold of you," he added in a rushed voice.

"Well," Steve paused, trying to torture him a bit, "If someone needs to get a hold of me, they can call my phone." If this wasn't his life, this would almost be funny. Other than their first meeting, never in the entire time that he had known James had he ever acted less than completely collected in front of Steve. "Is there something else, Mr. Barnes?" he asked looking up at the brunet.

He stood there for a moment not speaking, seeming to be fighting some internal battle. Suddenly he lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders, "Since you won't be here, I was thinking that I'd like to start the weekend early. Maybe do some shopping for tomorrow night."

Steve sat in his chair, trying to decipher the look on his face. What game was he playing? Steve kept telling himself that James becoming involved with someone was a good thing. If he was with someone, Steve would cease to be a temptation and life could get back to normal.

"No problem," Steve answered coolly, steeling his expression. "I'll just see you tomorrow." Their gazes locked across the desk, and the electricity in the air was so palpable, he could feel his heart rate increase. The younger man waited a minute more, and Steve tried like hell not to let his eyes wander.

"Have a nice meeting, sir," he said through clenched teeth, leaving quickly and closing the door loudly behind him. Steve sat there completely stunned. What the hell just happened? Did he think Steve was meeting someone? And why the hell would he care?

The blond was relieved when he heard James leave fifteen minutes later. Deciding it was now safe to leave his office he gathered up his things and headed out. Steve was stopped just as he reached the outer office door by a man carrying a large flower arrangement.

"Can I help you with something?" Steve asked the man skeptically. Surely he had to have the wrong office.

Looking up from his clipboard he looked around the office before answering, "I have a delivery for a Mr. James Barnes?" What the? Who the hell would send him flowers? Was he seeing someone while they were…? He couldn't even finish the thought.

"Mr. Barnes has gone for lunch. He'll be back in about an hour," he lied in a tone a bit rougher than usual. He had to get a look at that card. "I'll sign for those and make sure that he gets them." He handed Steve the flowers and he set them on his assistant’s desk. Signing the clipboard quickly he handed him a tip and watched thankfully as he left. For three long minutes, Steve stood and looked at those flowers, willing himself to stop being such a girl and not look at the card. Roses. He despises roses. Steve snickered because whoever sent him these knew nothing about him. Even Steve knew he didn't like roses. He'd overheard him talking to Natasha one day about how one of his dates sent him roses to the office. He'd immediately given them away, disliking the pungent scent. Finally, Steve’s curiosity got the better of him and he ripped the card away from the arrangement. Why that smooth son of a bitch.

“Counting down the days 'til we meet.

Sincerely,  
Brock Rumlow”

A foreign sensation slowly spread through his chest as he crumpled the card in his fist. Retrieving the flowers from the desk Steve walked out the door, locking up behind him, and made his way down the hall to the elevator. Just as the doors opened he passed a wide chrome garbage can and without a second glance he dropped them in.

He didn't know what the fuck was going on with him. But Steve did know there was no way in hell he was going out with Brock Rumlow.


	7. Take What Is Mine

The hour-long drive to Peggy’s house was spent attempting to calm himself and to get his thoughts in order. His carefully laid plans of getting Mr. Barnes out of his system and into the arms of another man had gone horribly wrong somewhere. Looking back now Steve could see that it was wrong for him to throw the flowers away. But at the time, nothing else mattered but getting rid of those things that were making his stomach burn. Leaning farther back into the seat, Steve tried to let the soothing sound of the car engine calm him. It wasn't working.  
So here were the facts. Steve felt possessive of him. Not in a romantic sort of way; in a "hit him over the head, drag him off by the hair, and fuck him" way. Like he was Steve’s toy and he was keeping the other boys in the sandbox from playing with him. God. How fucking sick was that? James was right. If he ever heard Steve admit to that, the brunet would cut Steve’s balls off and feed them to him. The blond shifted uncomfortably in the seat at the thought. For the millionth time, the idea of trying to figure out a way to just enjoy the sex without any strings ran through his head. But he knew it would never work. Besides the fact that there wasn't a chance in hell he would ever agree, Steve just couldn't continue to feed that needy part of his personality. Steve Rogers did not let anyone control him. Ever.

Now the question was how to proceed. Obviously, Brock was interested. How could he not be? All he had was second hand information from Steve’s friends, who obviously adored James, and I'm sure at least a photograph. If those were the only pieces of the puzzle Steve had about his assistant he'd be interested too. There was no way Brock could have actually had a conversation with James and still find him appealing. Unless he just wanted to fuck him. The sound of the leather steering wheel straining under his grip told Steve he would be better off not thinking about that. Hmm…maybe he actually wanted to get to know him better. Hell, even Steve had been a bit intrigued before they actually spoke. But he's proven to be one of the most aggravating, defensive, and unpleasant people the blond had ever met. Unfortunately for him, he was also the best sex Steve had ever had. Fuck, Brock better never get that far.

Steve still remembered the first moment he'd seen him.

He had heard wonderful things about Mr. Barnes and his work ethic, he saw photographs of this man. He was captivated, but the pictures did not do James justice. When he saw him in person that first time; laughing and joking, repeating quotes from one of Steve’s favorite movies, he realized he was in trouble. Handsome didn't even cover it. When he'd not realized Steve had entered the room and backed into the blond laughing, inadvertently causing his backside to rub against his hip, Steve knew he was in trouble. Big trouble. He remembers barely even being able to form the words he needed to speak. He turned around quickly and Steve was met with the same beautiful blue eyes he had seen in his photographs.

However, even in their shocked and widened state, it was still painfully obvious that his photographs had not done him justice; painfully in the most literal of terms. Steve had to clench his jaw to contain the arousal that shot through him with that first look. He watched the brunet’s lips as he began to apologize, and Steve immediately knew that this was a working relationship that could not work well. It would be far too difficult to keep a professional frame of mind working in such close quarters with this handsome man.

Steve barely noticed his co-worker approach him and speak until he heard her refer to his friend as 'Tony'. This caught Steve’s attention and piqued his interest. As soon as he glanced at her, she seemed intimidated and nervous. And it was then that it hit him; they were accustomed to a casual and friendly environment in the workplace. And knowing Sam and Tony, it wasn't difficult to imagine. So Steve was set on playing the stern, intolerable boss would cause James's nervousness and demand more respect from him and other co-workers. And above all, he would keep his distance from Steve, which is exactly what the blond needed.

So Steve portrayed the arrogant prick; addressing them both formally, insisting on being addressed formally, and requesting an immediate disciplinary meeting with Mr. Barnes. But in reality; he just needed to get out of there. To retreat back to his office for the five minutes of peace he was sure would be enough. Steve stalked out of there in a haughty fashion and slammed his office door behind him, leaning back on it to regain some composure.

He was soon presented the distraction of a phone call. It was his friend, who was still arranging to have some of the artwork he had purchased for his flat to be shipped. He was in the middle of jotting down the tracking information when he heard the knock on his office door; Steve called out a stern acknowledgment and sensed his presence without even looking up. It shouldn't be this difficult for him to be professional; he took business very seriously; almost too seriously, according to his business partners. But Steve hadn't gotten where he was today by taking the light approach to things. He worked hard, and he expected the same from his employees.

But something about James was different, and from the first moment, he couldn't place his finger on it. He knew that steeling himself to his assistant was going to take some work, so he kept his eyes on the notepad in front of him to keep the stern tone in his voice as he spoke to the brunet. Then Steve made the mistake of looking up, and the erection he had been fighting from the moment he backed into the blond was back in full force.

But apparently the arrogant quirked eyebrow was convincing, and the younger man nearly stuttered his response.

Excellent. Success. Steve thought to himself until James suddenly came hurtling toward him as he tripped, spilling the coffee onto his lap. "Shit!" he exclaimed, feeling the hot liquid seep through the fabric and right against his fully erect cock. He hissed through his teeth and pinched his eyes shut, trying to will away the excruciating pain. That was until Steve felt something rubbing against the crotch of his pants; and he opened his eyes to see Mr. Barnes on his knees in front of him, rubbing a towel against the entire length of his erection. "You may leave now, Mr. Barnes," he nearly growled through a clenched jaw, needing his hand out of his lap, and his presence out of this room. Steve was absolutely mortified. There was no way he couldn't have noticed that. As soon as the door closed behind him, Steve let out a heavy sigh and walked into the closet of the adjoining bathroom for a fresh pair of pants and boxers.

Pulling his pants off, he winced. Not from the heat of the coffee – the thickness of the fabric had taken the brunt of that. But more from the effect, Mr. Barnes had had on him. His voice, his scent, and last but not least, his touch had sent Steve’s senses into overdrive and he was harder than he had ever remembered being. "Damn you," Steve growled as he tried to pull on the fresh pair of boxers. There was no way he would get through the day like this. What the hell was so different about this man that he made him so hard he was actually considering jerking off in his office bathroom?! However, Steve didn't see that he had much of a choice; he would never get through the day like this.

And now, Steve could see all the mistakes he had made over the last few months. From that first day, it was all leading up to this. He had never been so sexually attracted to anyone in his entire life. And he'd been so mistaken thinking that once would be enough. If only the sex wasn't so fucking good. His dick hardened at the thought. Fucking traitor. It had been a whole week since he'd had any release, and now that Steve thought about it that might not have been the best plan either. It probably would have helped his resolve if he would have, um…relieved some stress before tonight. The problem was that he couldn't seem to seal the deal lately without thinking of James. Just the thought of the last time Steve tried was enough to make his dick shrink.

It was a few days before the 'window incident' as Steve was now referring to it, and he had a charity event to attend that night.

All that night with his beautiful blonde trophy date by his side, he'd been distracted. Steve knew he was coming to the end of his rope and eventually he was going to snap. He just had no idea exactly how soon that would be.

Like the ass that he was, Steve tried to prove to himself that Mr. Barnes wasn't really getting inside his head by going home with his date. Stumbling into her apartment they kissed and undressed quickly, but Steve felt as if he was moving outside himself. It's not that she wasn't beautiful and sexy; but just not what he was after at the time. And even as he rolled on the condom and plunged into her, Steve knew she was just a faceless body he was using for his own selfish needs. But once she had already orgasmed twice, it became obvious he wasn't going to be able to come like this. Steve tried to keep James from his thoughts but was unable to keep the forbidden images of what it would be like to have him under him from flashing through his mind. Steve came hard and hated himself. How could he have let this happen? God, he was such a prick.

Scrubbing his hand across his face, Steve was even more disgusted with the memory now than when it happened. He glanced at the clock and saw that he only had another ten minutes before he would arrive. He still didn't even know what his plan was. He could have just played it by ear, but that wasn't the way he usually did things. He was always so particular and calculated in every action. Steve knew that if he could make it through tonight, things would get easier. They had to. They had that damn conference in Seattle coming up and if this shit wasn't straightened out soon, who knows what would happen?

Right. He knew exactly what would happen. God just the image of having him naked and on top of Steve in the hotel bed made his dick suddenly forget about feeling guilty. How in the hell was he going to get through tonight?

Pulling through the gate of Peggy’s home, he tried to clear his head of all sexual thoughts. It was harder than he would have imagined. Parking the car and heading inside, he mentally chanted 'You can do this' over and over to himself. Steve walked into the house and passed through the dining room only to see that the table wasn't even set. "Peggy?" he called out questioningly; looking into each room he passed.

"Out here, Steve," he heard him call from the back patio. Opening the large French doors Steve was greeted with the smiling face of Peggy and Sam as they put the finishing touches on the outdoor table.

"So why are we eating out here tonight?"

"It's just such a lovely afternoon, and I thought it might make everyone more comfortable being out here. You don't think anyone will mind do you?" Peggy asked, suddenly concerned.

"Of course not, it's beautiful out here. Don't worry." And it was beautiful. The large patio was topped with a massive white pergola, draped in purple wisteria. The centerpiece was a large rectangular dining table that sat eight; it was covered in a soft ivory tablecloth and antiqued ivory dishes. Candles and soft lavender and blue flowers overflowed small silver pitchers running the length of the table. Hanging from the pergola overhead was a crystal candelabra, the entire thing looked like something out of an issue of Better Homes & Gardens.

“I'm really hoping that James and Brock hit it off," she continued flitting around the patio, lighting candles and making last-minute touch-ups; completely unaware of Steve’s anguish.

He was screwed. As he was contemplating making a run for it, he heard the boisterous voice of Tony coming into the house. "Where is everybody?" he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty house. Opening the door for Peggy, they walked into the house, finding Tony in the kitchen.

"Sooooo. Steve," he chortled, leaning his large frame against the counter. "Excited about tonight?" Why did he always look like he was up to no good? Bending down, he enclosed Peggy into a large hug causing her to giggle. Steve waited until she had left the room again to eye him skeptically.

"Is there some reason why I should be?" the blond asked shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Well, this should be an interesting night, watching Rumlow make a play for James in front of everyone. It could make for an entertaining evening. Don't you think?" Just as he was pulling a chunk of bread from one of the large loaves on the counter, Pepper walked in and swatted his hands away.

"Do you want to send Peggy into a fit by ruining the dinner she has planned? You be nice tonight, Tony. No teasing or joking with James. You know he has to be nervous enough about all this. Lord knows he puts up with enough shit from this one," she said, gesturing towards Steve.

"What are you talking about?" he shouted in an irritated tone. Steve was growing tired of the constant James pity party within his group of friends. "I haven't done anything to her." Pepper and Steve got along well. Steve loved her dearly, but if there was one person you didn't want on your bad side it was Pepper. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at Steve.

"Oh really, Mr. Sweetheart? Would you like to know what James calls you? What they all call you?"

Somehow Steve didn't think he wanted to know. She smiled sweetly at me, sensing his disdain. "I will tell you that it is not a compliment."

“Steve" Sam said as he entered the kitchen, then motioned for Steve to come with him. "I did have something I wanted to speak with you about. Please be on your best behavior tonight. I realize you and James don't get along, but even you have to admit that he deserves your respect." Clenching his jaw tightly, Steve nodded in agreement. Steve had in his own way spent the first three months hoping that he would just give up and quit. But he surprised the blond with his determination. And since then, it had only gotten worse. The more Steve wanted him, the bigger jerk he became.

Steve was brought out of his musings by the ringing of the doorbell. His heart rate sped up at the possibility of it being James already. He heard Peggy go to the door and felt a sense of relief to hear that it was only Brock. They had been good friends in school, but Steve hadn't seen him in years.

They greeted each other and made their way into the back of the house where the rest of the group was.

Brock hadn't changed much in the ten years since they'd seen each other. He was a bit shorter than Steve, with a slim build, dark brown hair and brown eyes; and could, what Steve supposed, be what anyone would consider attractive. Which only heightened his determination to keep Mr. Barnes out of Rumlow’s grasp.

"Steve," He said excitedly, reaching out to shake the blond’s hand. "God, man. How long has it been?"

"A long time, Brock. I think since right after high school." Steve answered, shaking his hand firmly. "How have you been?"

"Great. Things have been really great, Steve. How about you? I've seen your pictures in magazines, so I guess you're doing pretty well for yourself," he replied with an honest smile, slapping Steve’s shoulder gently.

The blond gave a small nod and a forced smile in return. Leaving Brock and the others to talk, he decided he needed a few more minutes; Steve headed up the stairs to the guest room to think. Just walking through the door, he felt calmer. He was now separated from the excitement occurring downstairs. Sitting on the bed, he thought about having James actually becoming involved with Brock. He really was a nice guy, and they might hit it off. But God, just the thought of another man touching him or being inside him made every muscle in Steve’s body clench. He thought back to the moment in the car when Steve told him that he couldn't stop. Even now, with all his false bravado, he didn't know if he could. His body was aching to feel him again. It had only been seven days, and as much as Steve tried to pretend it wasn't true, it was the only thing he could think about.

Hearing voices from downstairs, he decided it was time to man up and face the music. As Steve cleared the final landing he saw him. His back was to Steve, and the air left his lungs. Their eyes met across the room and he knew there was no way he would make it tonight. He looked so handsome.

And then a smile graced his lips that looked so genuine even Steve almost believed it. He knew it was only for show for his friends and for Brock. Of course, he would try to play sweet. "Good evening, Mr. Rogers," he said in a soft innocent tone.

Steve’s jaw clenched in amusement; playing the part in front of his friends. "Mr. Barnes," he replied, bowing his head slightly in a similarly polite gesture, and watching the brunet’s eyes as they fought against narrowing. Their gaze never broke, even as Peggy called everyone onto the patio for drinks before dinner. James walked away to catch up with Brock, Steve’s eyes followed him, drinking him in. His light blue dress shirt hugged his body perfectly and Steve couldn’t stop staring as he moved away. He was going to torture Steve with this. Game on, Mr. Barnes.

"I really hope you didn't mind the flowers I sent to your office yesterday. I admit it was a bit much, but I've been looking forward to meeting you," Brock asked him and Steve felt a knot tighten in his gut as James’s head turned back to look at me.

"Flowers? I had flowers delivered to me?" he asked with a furrowed brow and accusing eyes.

Steve shrugged casually and shook his head. "No, I didn't see any," he lied and walked by them to make his way outside to make himself a drink. He was going to kill Steve if he found out.

Steve kept his gaze locked on him all evening and when dinner finally began, it was apparent that things were going relatively smoothly between him and Brock. He was even flirting with him at times. Not going to happen.

He looked back over at Brock, biting his lip in the innocent way that only he could make look so damn sexy.

Stop flirting with him.

Steve’s fists clenched as they continued to speak to each other, but his breath stilled as he felt something touch his leg. As he was about to glance under the table, what was now undeniably his hand began creeping up Steve’s thigh. He watched the younger man’s lips as they closed around his fork, and felt his cock harden as his tongue slowly ran across them to remove the traces of marinade left behind by the fish.

"Wow, top five percent of your class at NYU. Nice!" Steve heard Brock say and then he looked over to speak to the blond. "Bet you're glad to have someone so amazing working under you, huh?"

James coughed slightly, bringing his napkin up from his lap to cover his mouth. Steve smiled as he quickly glanced over to him and then back to Brock. "Yes, it's absolutely amazing having Mr. Barnes under me. He always gets the job done."

"Aw, Steve. That is so sweet of you," Peggy gushed, and Steve watched Mr. Barnes's face begin to redden. And while everyone else smiled around them at the assumed endearment, his eyes shot daggers at his boss. Suddenly he felt his hand at Steve’s crotch, pressing against his aching erection, causing Steve to choke on the wine he had been sipping.

"Are you alright, Mr. Rogers?" he asked in faux concern, to which Steve nodded with venom in his gaze.

She smiled and then looked back over to Brock. "So how about you? Are you from New York?"

The palm of his hand continued to rub gently against Steve and he tried to keep in control of his breathing.

As he began telling James about his childhood, going to school with them, and finally talking about his successful accounting business; Steve watched his face lose the feigned interest, replaced instead by genuine intrigue. No. Don't go there, Brock. Steve slid his left hand under the tablecloth and met the skin of the brunet’s wrist, watching him jump slightly at the contact. Steve traced his fingertips in light circles around James’s wrist, causing his fingers to twitch slightly.

But then Brock mentioned that he would like to meet with James for lunch sometime this week. And Steve’s hand came to cover the top of James’s hand, pressing him more firmly against the blond’s cock. He merely smirked again.

"You wouldn't mind, would you, Steve?" Brock asked with a cheerful expression, his arm resting over the back of James's chair, and Steve’s leg began to bounce to restrain himself from reaching across the table for Brock’s throat.

"Oh speaking of lunch dates," Peggy interrupted tapping Steve’s arm with her hand. "You remember my cousin, Sharon? You met her last month at the house. Mid-twenties, my height, blond hair, brown eyes. Anyway, she asked for your number. Are you interested?"

Steve glanced back over to James when he felt the tendons in his hand tighten, and he watched him swallow slowly as he waited for Steve’s answer. "Sure. You know I prefer blonds, Peggy. Might make for a nice change of scenery."

Steve had to restrain from yelling out as he felt James squeeze him too tightly before before his hand pulled away from his hold. He lifted the napkin from his lap and his gaze met Steve’s again, his jaw clenched in restraint. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," he snapped, tossing the napkin on the table and standing up from the table before heading back into the house.

"Steve," he heard Sam’s stern voice and Steve turned to look at him. "I thought we talked about this."

Steve grabbed his wine glass roughly and brought it to his lips. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm before taking a sip.

"Steve," Peggy added, the severe look he knows too well showing in her eyes.

"I think you should go apologize."

"For what?!" Steve exclaimed, setting down his glass a little too roughly.

"Steve!" Sam said sharply, leaving no room for argument and Steve tossed his napkin on the table and pushed roughly away from the table.

He stormed through the house angrily, searching each bathroom on the first two floors, until finally reaching the third floor where one of the bathroom door's was closed. Standing outside, his hand resting on the knob, Steve waged an internal battle. If he went in there, what would happen? There was only one thing he wanted to do, and it wasn't talking. Steve thought about knocking, but he knew for a fact James wouldn't open. Steve listened carefully for any sign of noise but heard nothing. Turning the knob slowly, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Anger was still coursing through his veins at the very thought of Brock touching him.

He'd only been in this room a few times since Sam had remodeled it. Set on the third floor, it was rarely used. It struck Steve as odd that in this large house, this was the bathroom that Mr. Barnes would choose to use. Perhaps he knew Steve would follow him? Is that why the door was left unlocked? His pulse pounded furiously in his ears at the very thought.

It was a beautiful, Victorian styled room. It housed a clawfoot tub, a pedestal sink, a separate water closet and an elegant dressing table covered with mirrored trays, a standing antique oval mirror and various lead glass bottles of lotions and perfumes. Above the table was a small lace covered window that overlooked the patio and grounds below. He was sitting on a small bench in front of the table, peering out the window.

"What are you doing in here?" he said quietly, looking up at Steve. T

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm doing here," Steve answered quietly, reaching behind him to turn the lock on the bathroom door, the audible click ringing in the silent room. He was every bit as worked up as Steve was. The thought brought the corner of his mouth up into a smirk, and he glared at the blond in response.

"Well, despite what you might think," he said looking away and glancing outside, "You had better be getting back. Your friends will be missing you."

"No. Actually they won't," Steve said, continuing to smirk at him, "Sam actually sent me up here to find you. Apparently, he seems to think I owe you some sort of apology."

"Right," he mumbled under his breath.

"You see," Steve replied coolly, slowly closing the distance between them. "Sam, or anyone else for that matter, is completely unaware of the little game you were playing with me under the table." His eyes widened slightly and his breath hitched the tiniest bit.

"Such a naughty little tease."

"Well, no one might miss you. But I definitely have someone waiting for me." He stood and turned to leave, brushing Steve’s shoulder as he passed. Stepping in his path, he pressed his hand to the door, blocking James from opening it.

"I don't think so, Mr. Barnes," the blond whispered, leaning closer to his face. "I think the two of us have something to discuss. You aren't going anywhere with him." Steve’s lips lightly grazed just under his ear, and he felt the younger man’s body tremor with the contact. "You see, he wants something that's mine, and he can't have it."

His eyes closed briefly at Steve’s words and his body stiffened. "I can do anything I want, Mr. Rogers," he said softly. Steve could see the effect he was having on James; his quickened breath brushed against Steve’s shirt. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Steve’s, and his gaze hardened.

"And I am not yours."

"You might think that," Steve whispered, his lips ghosting along the column of his neck. "But your body," the blond said, running his hands down his side to cup his growing erection. "Says something different."

His eyes closed and he let out a low moan as Steve’s fingers squeezed slightly around James’s dick. "Fuck you." The words were quiet and Steve felt them vibrate against his lips.

"Let me," Steve said huskily into his neck. He moaned at the blond’s words, and he roughly pushed James against the bathroom door. Grabbing each of his hands, Steve raised them above his head, holding them captive in his own, causing his assistant to moan. He really did like it rough. He’d have to remember that for another time. Before Steve could even chastise himself for thinking that he leaned in and crashed his lips to the brunet’s. The rush Steve felt at just kissing him spurred him on and he pressed his hardened coc against James.

"Oh, God," he hissed as his head tilted to the side, allowing Steve access to his neck. "We can't do this."

Shifting both his hands into one of Steve’s, he reached down and began to hastily unbutton his dress shirt, he was soon rewarded when it slipped open revealing the expanse of James’s chest and torso.

Fuck. His mouth trailed down to his shoulder and across his collar bone. He kissed his way down the brunet’s chest, taking one pink nipple into his mouth, he moaned loudly and his knees buckled slightly. "Shhh," Steve whispered against his skin.

Steve released his hands and he immediately brought them to his blond hair, roughly pulling him closer. Fuck, Steve loved it when he did that. Pushing him more firmly against the door, Steve realized there were too many clothes in the way; he wanted to feel the heat of his skin against his own. He seemed to read Steve’s mind as his fingers quickly moved down his boss’s sides and began pulling his shirt free from his pants; lifting it up and over Steve’s head.

The sound of laughter outside floated up through the slightly open window, causing James to tense.

Looking up at him, Steve saw the different emotions flash across his face. His eyes met Steve’s and he looked like he was struggling with what he wanted to say. "We shouldn't do this," he said, shaking his head slightly. He made a move to send Steve away and he pushed him more firmly into the door.

"He's waiting for me."

"Do you want him?" Steve asked roughly as rage began to boil inside him. There was no way he would have James like this. "Answer me," he repeated, even angrier. His eyes bore into Steve’s but he didn't speak.

Steve moved away and pulled him to the dressing table and stood behind him. From where they stood, they had a perfect view of the patio. In particular of Brock, and that thought alone almost made me smile.

Gripping his hair in his hands, the blond pulled his back toSteve’s chest and brought his mouth to the brunet’s ear.

"Do you see him?" Steve asked, his hands beginning to slide along his chest. "Look at him." Steve skimmed his hands down his abdomen, along hiis belt and to his thighs. "Does he make you feel like this?" Steve’s fingers floated up his thigh to his erection. A low hiss escaped Steve’s mouth as he felt the hardness there. He groaned and pushed his hips back into the blond. Perfect. "What do you want?" Steve whispered against his shoulder.

"Fuck. I don't know," he answered desperately. But even as he said the words his hips continued to grind into Steve.

His fingers continued to stroke along his hardened dick, and he wanted to fuck him.

"Look at him, James. You know what you want." he let out a whispered curse at the use of his name.

And God it felt so good to say it.

"Fuck me. Please. I need to feel you inside me." he didn't need to ask Steve twice, and the blond quickly undid the younger man’s pants and pushed them down his legs. Unfortunately, Steve had weaned himself off of bringing a travel-sized bottle of lube with him, having his hopes up. Shit. But he had made sure he had condoms, he always wanted to be safe.

“I don’t have any lube” Steve scoffed to himself under his breath.

“Uhh, just use spit” came James’s reply like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Steve thought James was worth more than that.

When Steve didn’t move right away, the brunet pushed his hips back into Steve. “You better start moving or I’m leaving” it was a hollow threat, Steve knew, but he got to work anyway. Steve wetted his fingers and brought them to James’s hole, making sure to have plenty of slick before he began to push a single finger in. He sunk his finger in and began pumping it while curling it slightly to milk the younger man’s prostate. James bit his bottom lip to quiet himself as Steve added a second finger and began carefully scissoring and stimulating his prostate. He was being quick while also trying to keep James comfortable. Finally, he easily was pumping three fingers into the brunet and he deemed that he was ready.

He retracted his hand, despite the groan of disapproval from the man below him and began running his hands up the brunet’s body and to his shoulders, the blond let his fingers slide down his arms, to his hands; placing them on the table in front of them, bending James over a little more. Steve rapidly rolled on a condom after freeing his aching erection from the confines of his pants and grasped his cock in his hand and teased James’s entrance with the tip.

His cock twitched at the sight before him; his lean muscled body bent over at the waist, his perfect ass on display, and Steve was biting his lip as he slid slowly inside.

God it had been too long. How did Steve think he could manage to stay away from this? They both moaned as he pulled out and slid in again. Bending over the blond placed a kiss and another "Shhh" on James’s back. He groaned as the brunet pushed his hips back into Steve, pushing him farther into him. Steve knew he couldn't last long if he kept that up, but the urge to thrust was becoming too strong.

More laughter came from outside, and Steve was briefly brought out of his thoughts. Brock was down there and he wanted to take this away from Steve. Just the image made him push into the man below him more forcefully. The bottles and jars on the table were rattling and tipping over with the force of their movements, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Gripping his brown hair, he pulled him up so his back was now against Steve’s chest, "Do you see him? Do you think he can make you feel this way?" Steve continued to thrust in and out of him, forcing James to look out the window.

Steve knew he was slipping. His walls were falling around him and right now he didn't care. He needed to fuck him hard enough that he would remember his boss tonight as he lay in bed. Steve’s free hand ran up his side and across his chest, moving to tease his nipples roughly.

"Oh God," he moaned. "No, no one has ever made me feel like this." Just hearing him say those words filled Steve with an animalistic pride he'd never felt before. Sliding his hand down the brunet’s side he placed it behind his knee and hitched it up to the table, opening him up wider and allowing his thrusts to deepen. He gasped at the sensation the position brought, allowing Steve to brush more directly along his prostate, and Steve kissed and nipped up and down his shoulders and neck.

"Do you feel how perfect you fit around me?" Steve groaned into his neck. "You feel so fucking good. When you go downstairs, I want you to remember this. Remember what it felt like to have my cock pumping in and out of you." The sensation was becoming too overwhelming and Steve knew he was getting close. He was terrified that this would be the last time he'd feel this. He was beyond desperate. He craved him like a drug, and this feeling consumed Steve’s every waking thought. He began grinding his hips into the blond more roughly and Steve knew he was getting closer too. Taking his hand in Steve’s own, he laced their fingers and moved them down his body to his own neglected dick, both their hands wrapped around it to start stroking and teasing. They stroked James’s cock a few times before continuing to where they were connected, Steve groaned as he felt himself glide in and out of him. "Do you feel that?" Steve whispered into the brunet’s ear as he spread their fingers so they slipped on either side of Steve’s cock.

He turned his head and moaned loudly into Steve’s neck. Steve knew enough about him in this way to know what was coming. He was tightening around Steve’s cock and his breaths were coming quicker. Each movement was bringing them closer and he needed to keep James quiet. Removing his hand from his brown hair, Steve gently covered the younger man’s mouth and whispered that he needed to stay quiet into his ear. But just as his muffled screams filled the air, Steve felt his own climax begin to rip through him. The blond buried his face in James’s neck, biting down on the meat of his shoulder and he closed his eyes and let the wave overtake him. His final thrusts were deep and hard and he felt himself spill into him.

The voices from below continued to carry up to them so he knew no one was aware of what had just happened. He leaned back into Steve and they stood there quietly for a few moments.

Slowly he began to pull away from Steve; and he frowned slightly at the loss of contact. The blond watched as he retrieved his shirt from the floor and began to redress himself. Steve removed the condom to discard of it in the trash and to clean up the mess they made and he reached down to pull up his pants, Steve glanced over to James to see him still struggling with the buttons on his shirt, shaky hands not helping him. Moving over to James and brushing his hands away; Steve buttoned up the rest of his shirt for him without meeting his gaze.

They glanced at each other once in an uncomfortable silence as he removed his hands from the James’s shirt and stepped back from him. Steve didn't even know if either of them were surprised it had happened again.

At this point it felt as if it was becoming almost an undeniable force. They both took shaky, steadying breaths and looked away from the each other before walking to the door. Steve reached for the doorknob and pulled it open, and they both stopped short at the sight before them.

There standing outside the doorway, with her arms folded and her eyebrow raised knowingly, was Pepper, her eyes flickering between them.

"I think the three of us need to have a little talk."


	8. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter is Bucky's dream about Steve. But yeah sorry for the shorter chapter, thought I shouldn't have a full scene to keep it on edge and slightly cliff hanger-ish.

The moment Mr. Rogers opened the door and they came face to face with Pepper, he froze. Bucky could feel the tension radiating from the blond as Pepper stood in front of them with her arms folded and eyebrow raised.  
"Well isn't this cozy? What exactly were you two doing in there?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes moving between the two of them. Bucky ran over in his head everything she could have heard and he felt the heat spreading over his skin.

Bucky chanced a look over to Mr. Rogers as he did the same, and then turned back to Pepper and shook his head. "Nothing, Mr. Rogers and I just had something to discuss. That's all." the brunet tried to play it off, but his nervous laughter gave him away.

Pepper shook her head but her eyes remained more on him than on Bucky. "I heard noise in there but it certainly wasn't talking," she said in a firm tone and then shrugged. "And even if I didn't know you both so well, it's no secret that you two don't talk about anything; you yell. So, what? Are you two dating?"

"No, of course not!" Mr. Rogers and Bucky exclaimed at the same time, their eyes meeting for a brief moment afterward and just as quickly looking away.

"So… you're just fucking then," she continued in sharp statement rather than a question, and it seemed that neither of them could find the words to reply. The tension in that hallway was so palpable, there was no way it went unnoticed by her. "For how long?"

"Pepper…" he began, shaking his head and for once Bucky actually felt bad about his discomfort. The brunet had never seen his boss look intimidated before.

"How long, Steve? James?" she persisted but again, neither of them answered and she shook her head.

"You two need to fix this shit now."

"Pepper, I… we just…" Just what? How could Bucky explain any of this? They just had amazing sex? They were like magnets, drawn together and unable to resist the pull? They just….

"We just made a mistake, Pepper. It was a mistake." Mr. Rogers's voice cut through his thoughts and Bucky looked over to him in shock.

Bucky’s eyes never left him as she began to speak. "Mistake or not, it needs to stop now. What if I had been someone else? And Steve, you're his boss! Have you forgotten that?" She continued to look at him, a disappointed frown upon her face. "Look, you two are adults, and I don't know what's going on here; but whatever you do, do not let Sam or anyone else find out."

Bucky tensed slightly at the thought of anyone else ever finding out about this, and the disappointment they would feel if this ever came to light. Bucky couldn't bear that. He didn't want them to think of him this way. Bucky knew they shouldn't be doing this, that it was probably a mistake. But they'd never uttered those words, and he hated to admit that hearing them hurt. This needed to stop. "That won't be a problem," Bucky replied in a tight angry voice, shooting daggers at his boss with his eyes. "I intend to learn from my mistake. Excuse me."

Bucky moved past them toward the stairs, the anger and hurt he felt at Mr. Rogers’s words causing a searing ache in his chest. Why should he have expected anything different from him? For a moment Bucky thought he saw a hint of compassion; a vulnerability he had never witnessed before. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, and every reason he had for despising him became clear again.

Before stepping outside, Bucky composed himself and took his seat again beside Brock. "Everything alright?" he asked with a gentle smile.

Bucky turned his head toward him and really took him in for a moment. He was very attractive; fluffy brown hair, a structured face, and the most beautiful brown eyes Bucky had ever seen in his life. He was everything Bucky should be wanting. Bucky’s gaze shot up a moment later to Mr. Rogers returning to the table with Pepper, but he quickly looked away from his boss and smiled softly at Brock. "Yeah, I just… I'm not feeling too well. I think I might actually need to call it a night."

Bucky stood up a few minutes later and Brock followed behind him. "Here I'll walk you to your car," he said in a concerned voice, and once Bucky finished his good nights, Bucky felt his hand on the small of his back as they walked back into the house. Once in the driveway beside his car, Brock gave him a shy smile and took Bucky’s hand. "It was really nice meeting you, James. And I would like to call you sometime and maybe have that lunch."

Bucky returned a smile to him and released his hand from Brock’s. "Let me see your phone." he bit his lip as Brock pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Bucky. Part of him felt very wrong for doing this; having just been with one man upstairs not even twenty minutes ago, and now giving his phone number to another. But it was time to move past this sick twisted game between himself and Mr. Rogers, and a lunch date with a nice guy seemed like a good place to start. He smiled more broadly as Bucky handed his phone back and then Brock handed him a card with his number on it. Bucky chuckled softly at the old-fashioned nature of such a gesture, and he slid it inside his wallet. His hand grasped Bucky’s again, and he lifted it up to his lips. "I'll call you Monday; hopefully your flowers aren't completely wilted."

Bucky shrugged slightly and chuckled. "It's the thought that counts. Thank you," he said softly as his eyes soft as they scanned Bucky’s face. Such a gentle and tender look that it should have made his heart melt. But instead it made Bucky tense; worried he might try to kiss him next. "I should go."

Brock nodded, opening his car door for Bucky and smiling. "Of course. Drive carefully, and goodnight, James."

The brunet paused to look at him and smiled. "Goodnight, Brock." He closed Bucky’s door and he started the engine, his jaw tightening and he revved the engine once, before peeling out of the driveway and watched him disappear from Bucky’s rearview mirror.

Bucky thrust his head back against the headrest and his hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he chanted to himself. How could he have allowed himself to do this again; to let his boss take such control of his mind and body? Why wasn't a nice guy like Brock enough to make Bucky say no?

When Bucky arrived home, he practically sprinted to his bathroom to quickly shower and change, removing all physical traces of tonight. He slid on a tank top and a pair of boxers and climbed into bed, willing himself to fall asleep, even if only for a few hours. Eventually, his eyes did close, and he prayed for the respite from this nightmare only sleep could bring him.

Bucky was alone, he was almost sure of that. He had placed Bucky in the leather restraints and covered his eyes without a single word. Only his eyes had told me what he wanted…Bucky. He wasn't sure if he should be scared or not, laying on his back with no chance of escape. 

Bucky’s mind was battling with his body, telling him this was wrong. Telling him he didn't want this. But he did… more than anything.

Before leaving him, Mr. Rogers had lightly run his fingertips from the scarf across Bucky’s eyes, down his neck to his nipple; tracing feather-like circles around the hardened bud. A moan escaped Bucky’s lips as he reflexively arched his back into his touch, his hands pulling against the restraints.

With one last sweep of his hand, he brushed his fingertips down Bucky’s abdomen to his aching cock. He wanted the blond to touch him, stroke him, open him up. He wanted him to press into him, to fill him and stop the ceaseless yearning he brought forth. But with one stroke of Bucky’s dick, he withdrew his hand and was gone.

The minutes ticked by, the anticipation of what was to come growing greater with each passing second.

What would he do to Bucky? God the things he wanted him to do. Every nerve in his body was alight with the anticipation.

Each wrist was bound above his head by a smooth leather cuff, and his legs were restrained at each ankle; leaving Bucky open and exposed. He should feel embarrassed. He should feel ashamed. But he couldn't even find it in himself to care. He'd never felt so wanton, so ready to just be taken.

Hearing a sound to his right, Bucky quickly turned his head, straining to make out the noise. Was someone there? A tremor ran through him at the thought of someone seeing him like this. There it was again. Was he in here? Was he watching Bucky? His chest was heaving, his skin covered in goosebumps, and his muscles were so tense that it felt as if his entire body was vibrating.

Needing to do something, Bucky pulled uselessly again at the leather restraints. If one would have asked Bucky about this a few months ago, he would have said that even imagining a situation like this would make him panic. But now, all he felt was relief. A strange, powerful sense of relief at being able to give up control of his own actions; to let someone else take charge of pleasuring him. It was the most erotic thing Bucky had ever experienced. But it wasn't just anyone he wanted. It was him. Bucky continued to struggle until a smooth voice sounded through the silent room.

"Mmmm. So beautiful." He spoke quietly from somewhere across the room. Bucky’s breath caught and he turned his head searching for the source of the voice.

"Seeing you like this; stripped and bare, open for me, completely vulnerable; it's the most beautiful thing in the world." His voice was closer to Bucky now and he imagined he had to be standing near his feet, watching Bucky. The thought alone was enough to send a visible shiver through the brunet’s body.

Bucky heard something that sounded like metal followed by a whooshing sound. His belt? Something cool and smooth ran up his calf, causing him to jerk his leg and gasp.

"Don't misunderstand me," he said softly, still continuing up Bucky’s body, "It's not that I don't love your fire. But there's something about you being totally defenseless; knowing I can do whatever I want to you…knowing that I can make you do anything I want to me." Bucky felt his breath on his skin as he leaned over and whispered into Bucky’s ear. "It makes me harder than you can imagine. Would you like to feel?"

Bucky felt the air leave his lungs, and his nipples hardened to the point of pain. Too proud to say the words, Bucky bit his lip roughly and nodded yes in reply.

"Oh, I'm sure you would, my little tease. But you've been a very bad boy. Do you enjoy making me suffer?"

He pulled away from Bucky and he felt something leather slide up his legs and across his cock. The brunet hissed at the sensation of something finally touching him where he wanted. He was so aroused Bucky would have done anything he asked of him.

"You like making me hard don't you?" The cool leather brushed around one of Bucky’s nipples. He felt it flick against his skin roughly and Bucky was surprised at the moan that escaped his lips. What was happening to him? The sting of something slapping against his thigh brought him out of his thoughts and caused him to cry out. The sensation was amazing. It hurt a little, but there was pleasure too; Bucky wanted him to do it again.

"Answer me," he said roughly, his mouth once again near the younger man’s ear. Bucky was so wrapped in this feeling, he couldn't even remember what he asked. Bucky felt his hair being pulled; he jerked it roughly and spoke again. "I said answer me," he growled.

"Yes sir," Bucky whispered between gasps of air. He could feel himself dribbling precum onto his stomach and wanting, desperately wishing he could touch himself to ease some of the ache.

"And you deserve to be punished for that, don't you?" His nose skimmed Bucky’s jaw, his hot breath tickling the brunet’s neck. Bucky pulled against the cuffs at his wrist, wanting to reach out and draw the blond to him.

"Yes sir," Bucky whispered.


	9. Distance

He was an ass. There was just no other way to explain it. Standing there facing Pepper, the words had just come out. It was a mistake. Steve could see Mr. Barnes looking at him from the corner of his eye, and seeing the pain and shock on his face made Steve feel like he'd been punched in the stomach. He could only imagine how he felt. Steve had just shared one of the most intense and amazing sexual experiences of his life with this man and he just referred to it as a mistake. God, even he wanted to kick his own ass.

"Mistake or not, it needs to stop now." Pepper's words pulled him from his thoughts. "What if I would have been anyone else? Steve, you're his boss! Have you forgotten that?" Her statement only deepened the shame Steve felt over his behavior. Was he taking advantage of James? He thought back to their now numerous encounters and was somewhat relieved to recall the younger man being an absolutely active participant, but even that didn't ease his guilt. "Look, you two are adults, and I don't know what's going on here. But whatever you do, do not let anyone else find out."

His friends and business partners. In all that had occurred, Steve doesn't think he'd ever fully considered the consequences of them finding out. Not only would he be in deep shit, but Mr. Barnes would also be devastated. Steve had seen for himself firsthand the relationship his friends had with James, and this kind of situation had the possibility to damage that beyond repair. His friends were good, kind people and he knew they would never be too harsh, but that didn't change the fact that they would be deeply disappointed…in both of them.

Steve felt him tense beside him at Pepper’s words. He knew James had to be having the same internal debate with himself that Steve was. But he still wasn't ready for his response when it came.

"That won't be a problem," he said, giving the blond a glare that actually made him recoil slightly. "I intend to learn from my mistake. Excuse me." Before Steve could even think of a way to stop him, he turned and walked down the stairs.

"Have you lost your mind, Steve?" Pepper unsuccessfully attempted to whisper to him. He turned quickly to her as her fist collided with his bicep.

"Pepper!" He yelled, rubbing the sore spot on his arm and glaring at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"How long has this been going on with you two? I get the feeling this wasn't a one-time thing, for some reason."

Steve really didn't want to get into this, especially here. "Pep, I love you, but this is none of your business." Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open.

"None of my business?" she spat angrily. "Well, if you'd wanted to keep it between the two of you, you shouldn't have been fucking him in the bathroom while your entire group of friends was right downstairs."

"I'm not discussing this any further with you," Steve said with an air of finality. "And I'm asking that you please keep this between us. I wouldn't want this to look bad for everyone involved." She continued to glare at the blond but didn't respond. He decided that he'd been gone too long already and turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his forearm.

"You really are an asshole sometimes. You know that, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she brushed past Steve to return to the party. As she reached the first step, she turned to look at him. "And for God's sake, fix your hair."

Steve frowned but automatically raised his hand to his blond hair, combing it back with his fingers as he descended the stairs behind her.

As they stepped onto the patio, Steve was overwhelmed by an urge to strangle Brock. He sat leaning into James, a worried expression on his face, asking if he was alright. Was he? Before he'd even had a chance to sit down, the brunet said he wasn't feeling well and excused himself for the night. Steve was just about to offer to walk him out when Brock stepped in. Fucking Rumlow. He really was making it easy for Steve to hate him.

Using the excuse of an important phone call, Steve quietly followed the both of them and waited by the doorway. His chest filled with an animalistic rage as he watched them together, and the air left his lungs as he saw him hand James his phone. He entered something into it; he was going to see him again, even after what they just did. Steve swore under his breath as he moved closer and kissed his hand. Brock stood and watched him leave before turning back towards the house. Their eyes met, and Steve swore he saw a challenge there. That was it. Steve had to make this right.

\---

Steve slept like hell that night. He laid in his huge bed for hours, watching the city lights outside his window; the memories of this evening replaying over and over in his mind. His plan had blown up in his face, but he still couldn't regret the things that they'd done to each other. It was wrong, and complicated and twisted and fucked up, but that still didn't take away from the fact that it was amazing. He shook his head, thinking about how 'amazing' was an understatement. His balls tightened and his cock twitched at the mere thought of fucking him. It was heaven and hell all wrapped up together, and the most intense thing he'd ever experienced. No matter how much he thought it over, Steve was at a complete loss as to how to deal with something, for the first time in his life.

The sunlight began to permeate the city outside, reflecting off the chrome and glass buildings. He reluctantly gave up on sleep and headed to the shower; if he hurried he could fit in a run before meeting Carol to sign the donation paperwork. Steve never did work on Sunday, but when she called late last night and explained her travel situation, Steve had agreed. In reality, all he wanted to do was go for a drive and get as far away from his problems as he could, but as usual, work had to come first. The rest would have to wait.

At 10:30, he met Carol outside a little bistro downtown and they exchanged pleasantries. He had known her for years, and she ran one of the most influential charities for autistic children in the country. She was beautiful and intelligent, and although they were great friends, they were never interested in each other romantically. Holding the door open for her, Steve guided her to their table, making sure to pull out her chair. His mother raised him to be a gentleman, no matter how much he seemed to be ignoring that lately.

They had been joking about a mutual acquaintance of theirs when Steve suddenly felt he was being watched. Looking up, his stomach dropped when he met the eyes of Mr. Barnes. He looked away quickly, embarrassed that he had been caught staring, and spoke to his friend. When the girl's phone rang, he excused himself and headed to the back of the restaurant. Before Steve even had a plan, he told Carol he would be back. She nodded with a small chuckle and a wink, and the blond stood up to follow Mr. Barnes across the room. 

Grabbing his arm, Steve forced him to look at him. He knew James would fight him; nothing between them was ever easy. Their emotions were always in a constant battle, never letting them coexist peacefully. It was just the way they were.

"What the hell do you want?" He looked absolutely livid, and he couldn't blame him. His behavior had been so…unfair and despicable. Doing and saying something one moment, and acting out the exact opposite the next. Steve had to make it right.

"I just wanted to talk to you about last night," he said, his fingers running nervously through his hair. If Steve looked half as nervous as he felt, he was in trouble. Steve knew the look James was giving him right now; he was contemplating ripping out the blond’s heart and feeding it to him.

"What is there to explain? You're obviously over it," he said, nodding towards Steve’s table. "That was quick, even for you." What was he talking about? Then it dawned on me: Carol. He thought Steve was on a date? He watched James for a brief moment, astounded. Was there a possibility he felt this insane, unhealthy obsession in return? Steve wanted to ask him why he would even care, but Steve needed to do that in private. Noticing a door ahead, Steve pulled him in and locked it behind himself. It was only then that he realized where they were. Oh, shit. Another bathroom.

Before Steve could respond, he started in on him; he thought Steve was fucking other women. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Steve tried to explain about Carol, that they were just old friends and that it was completely innocent. The rolling of James’s eyes told Steve he didn't buy it. The blond cringed at the thought of what he was going to have to tell her. Why was Steve justifying himself to this man, who was obviously going to turn around and do the exact same thing to Steve? Was he really this much of a hypocrite? Steve felt compelled to explain himself nonetheless. "I haven't been with anyone else since the wi-," he stopped. There was no way he could even utter that word. "Since we first… you know…"

"You really expect me to believe that? All those people throwing themselves at you and you haven't even snagged one?! Awww, I'm touched," he practically sneered at the blond.

"It's not that difficult to believe," Steve growled back. This was un-fucking-believable. What the hell had he done to warrant James not trusting him? He could admit to being a fucking asshole, but he’d never given his assistant any reason to doubt his word. He was acting like a jealous…Steve had to stop and let that thought sink in for a moment. James was behaving almost as insane as Steve was.

He turned to leave but stopped to glare at Steve over his shoulder. "Oh, right-because you are such a one-person man, aren't you? Give me one reason why I should believe you. You can't, not that I care. You know what? It doesn't even matter. It was just a mistake, right?"

A sickening feeling settled in Steve’s stomach. He knew those words had been hurtful, but he hadn't understood exactly how badly Steve had hurt him. He couldn't let James go.

"Look, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Steve said as he stepped closer to James. Steve might have felt that way, but even he knew he shouldn't have said it. James still tried to leave and Steve felt panicked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "Are you seeing Brock again?" But before the blond could take it back, Steve noticed James’s hand froze on the doorknob.

"What's it to you?" he asked quietly. He seemed to be struggling with the idea of leaving, and as usual, Steve didn't know what he wanted the brunet to do. It was never a good idea for the two of them to be alone like this. Less than two minutes had elapsed since they started talking, and Steve’s traitorous body was already responding to James’s presence. Without thinking, Steve stepped towards him, pressing his body to the younger man’s back.

"I thought we covered this last night," Steve said. Goosebumps were forming on James’s skin and his body seemed to override his brain. The blond lowered his head and swept his lips softly against James’s skin, letting himself get lost in his clean smell.

"Yeah, a lot of things were said last night," he replied softly.

"I didn't mean it," Steve murmured against his skin.

"That doesn't mean it's not true." His head tipped slightly, allowing Steve to taste his neck.

"I shouldn't have said it." He moved so he could suck and nip lightly at his neck and he heard James’s breath shutter. His body responded just as insanely to Steve’s as his did to the brunet.

"Turn around," Steve whispered against his brown hair, waiting for his response. It had to be his choice. Steve's head wanted James to stop him, to slap him across the face and walk out. But his body had other ideas.

Steve’s selfish body wanted to kiss him and touch him; to make him Steve’s. The blond watched his hand closely, waiting for him to leave, all the while silently praying that he would. When James’s hand fell to his side, Steve’s eyes closed in defeat. He wasn't strong enough, either.

Turning slowly, he looked into Steve’s eyes; eyes that mirrored the same defeat the blond felt. He pulled the younger man to him, his hand going to his brown hair. Steve tried to stop; tried to talk himself into leaving, but he couldn't. They kissed, hands touching, teeth nipping, bodies close together. Steve needed more and pulled him up, connecting where they needed it most. Their moans blended together and their mouths searched for more, the blond’s hands slipping under James’s thighs, lifting him to Steve and pressing his back against the wall. Steve could feel the outline of James’s hardening dick and he rolled his hips into the brunet.

Steve was kissing along his jaw when he heard a phone ring nearby. Of course. Setting him on his feet, James straightened and readjusted his erection and reached into his pocket for his phone. Steve roughly ran his hands through his blond hair again, willing himself to keep from grabbing that phone and flushing it down the toilet.

It must have been his friend from the table, Steve was just now realizing that it was Natasha. She would definitely recognize Steve and that is probably why she was calling James. Steve cursed silently as he hung up. He was just putting his phone away when it rang again.

"God, Natasha! I said I'll be there in a minute!" he yelled, but then his eyes dropped and several expressions passed over his face. Anger, embarrassment, annoyance, and then…curiosity? Looking up at Steve, their eyes locked, the tension in the room building again. Steve could vaguely make out a man's voice on the other end and felt the caveman begin to awaken. Who the hell was calling him?

Suddenly his eyes narrowed, and a tiny voice inside told Steve that he should be nervous. "Well, thank you so much for letting me know. Yes. Yes, I will. Okay. Yes, I'll call you when I decide. Thanks for calling, Brock." Brock? Fucking Rumlow.

He ended the call and slowly put the phone back in his pocket. Looking down, he shook his head slowly, a small laugh escaping his lips. That little voice inside Steve was getting louder. Looking up at the blond, a small, wicked smile graced the brunet’s mouth. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" he asked sweetly, and for some reason, it made Steve even more anxious. He racked his brain, but couldn't think of anything. What was he talking about?

"You see," he said continuing to shake his head. "That was the strangest conversation. It seems that when Brock checked his email this morning, he had a delivery confirmation for my flowers. You'll never guess what it said."

He moved one step towards Steve, and instinctively he moved one step back. Steve didn't like where this was going. "It turns out that someone signed for the flowers." Oh shit. "The name on the slip said Steve Rogers." Fuuuuuck. Why the hell did Steve sign his own name? He tried to think of a response but his mind was suddenly blank. Obviously, his abrupt silence told James everything he needed to know.

"You son of a bitch! You signed for them and then lied to me?!" he yelled, with a violent shove on Steve’s chest, and he had a sudden instinct to protect his balls. "Why did you do that?" His back was now against the wall and Steve was searching for an alternative exit. Why hadn't he thought this plan through better?

"Answer me, damn it!"

Steve needed an answer and he needed it fast. Running his hands through his hair for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, he decided it was probably better to just come clean.

"I don't know, okay?!" Steve shouted back. "I just….fuck!" Scrubbing his hands over his face, Steve began pacing across the floor. Looking up, he noticed that James had taken out his phone and appeared to be texting someone. "What are you doing?" the blond asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm telling Nat to just leave without me. I'm not leaving here until you tell me the truth." He glared at Steve and he could feel the anger coming off of the brunet in waves. Steve briefly considered telling Carol what was going on, but knowing her, she'd figured it out by now.

"Well? I'm waiting, Rogers." Steve met his eyes and let out a deep sigh. There was just no way Steve could explain himself and not sound like he'd lost his mind.

"Okay, I signed for them," Steve replied in exasperation. The younger man just stared at him, his jaw clenching and his fists balled so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"And…?" he said, his eyes never leaving his boss’s.

"And…I threw the flowers away." As Steve stood facing him, he realized that he deserved every bit of James’s anger. He was being unfair; he was offering him nothing, but still standing in the way of someone who could possibly offer him everything. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, but Steve knew he couldn't fight it. He was like a junkie. Being with the brunet sexually was the most intense high he'd ever experienced. When they were apart, he found himself replaying each of their encounters, both hating it and wanting the chance to get another fix at the same time.

"You are fucking unbelievable," he gritted through clenched teeth. Steve knew he was doing everything he could to keep from lunging across the room and pummeling his boss. "Why? Why would you do that?"

Here was the part Steve didn't want to get into. "Because…" he bit his lip and scratched the back of his head, still trying to figure out the best way to answer this. He fucking hated that he'd let himself get into this situation. Letting out a long sigh, Steve just blurted it out. "Because I didn't want you to go out with Brock, alright?!"

"Who in the hell do you think you are? Just because we've had sex does not mean you get to make decisions in my life. We aren't a couple, we aren't dating. Hell, we don't even like each other!" he yelled.

"You think I don't know that?! It doesn't make any sense. But when I saw those flowers…come on, they were fucking roses for God's sake!" Steve exclaimed without thinking, and James looked at him as if he were ready to have Steve committed somewhere.

"Are you on some sort of medication? What the hell does the fact that they were roses have to do with anything?" Everybody in the entire restaurant could probably hear them. Thank God it was Sunday and the place was practically empty.

"Fuck! I don't know! I just saw them and reacted. I didn't stop and think about it. Just the thought of him touching you like…" Steve’s fists clenched and his voice trailed off as he tried to regain his composure.

He was getting angrier by the second; at himself for being weak and letting his emotions get out of hand, and at James for still having this fucking inexplicable hold on him.

"Look, I'm not saying I agree with you, but I understand what you did…to a point." Steve’s eyes flew to James’s in shock. "I would be lying if I said I haven't had similar…possessive feelings," he said reluctantly. The blond couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did he actually just admit to Steve that he felt this, too? "But that doesn't change the fact that you lied to me. You lied right to my face. I might think you're an arrogant asshole most of the time, but you've always been someone I trusted to be honest with me." Steve flinched as his words hit him. He was right.

"I'm sorry." Steve’s words hung in the air, and he wasn't sure who was more surprised by them; James or himself.

They stood across from each other, their gazes never wavering, neither of them knowing what to say.

"Prove it." He looked at Steve so calmly, not an ounce of emotion visible in his features.

What did he mean? Then, it hit Steve. Prove it. They couldn't speak through words, because words only led to trouble. This? This is what they were, and if the younger man would give Steve this one chance to make up for what he'd done, he had to take it. Steve hated him so much in that moment. He hated that James was right and he was wrong, and he hated that he was forcing Steve to make a choice. He hated how much he wanted James most of all.

Steve closed the distance between them, wrapping his hand around the back of the brunet’s neck. He pulled him to Steve roughly, meeting his gaze as he drew their mouths together. There was an unspoken challenge there.

Neither of them would back down or admit that this…whatever this was… was beyond their control.

The moment their lips touched, he was taken over by a familiar buzz coursing through his body. James’s hands remained at his sides, allowing the blond to lead the kiss; as his tongue met the younger man’s, he moaned into Steve’s mouth.

Steve’s hands fisted deeply into his brown hair, forcing him to bend to his kiss. This might be for him, but Steve was damn sure going to control it. Pressing his body to James’s, he groaned when he found that James was hard again. Steve wanted this need to go away, to be satisfied and move on; but each time he felt him, it was better than he remembered.

Falling to his knees, Steve grasped his hips and pulled James closer, his lips moving across the waist of his pants. Lifting his shirt up, Steve kissed each inch of visible skin, enjoying the tensing of James’s abdominal muscles as he explored. Hooking his fingers into the waist of James’s pants he looked up at his assistant. His eyes were closed and he was biting on his lower lip. Steve felt his cock twitch at the sheer thought of what he was about to do.

Steve undid his belt and fly before pulling his pants down his legs; goosebumps breaking out over his skin as the blond trailed his fingers down his legs. Steve lifted his hand to grope him through his boxers, thumb teasing the tip. His hands went to his blond hair and pulled roughly. Steve fucking loved it when James did that. The blond bit his lip and groaned as he looked up at his assistant. He moved his hand to curl his fingers over the waistband of his boxers, before pulling them down and freeing the brunet’s aching erection. 

A sense of urgency took Steve over then.

Steve drew his tongue along the length of his cock before drawing teasing circles on the tip. He finally wrapped his lips around the top and sunk slightly, still teasing. Eventually, he engulfed James’s entire length and when the tip of his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat, the younger man’s fingers gripped Steve’s hair tightly and moved his hips the slightest bit against into his mouth. He realized that James was as helpless against this as he was, and the intensity of that knowledge almost overwhelmed him. His cock was hot and heavy on his tongue and Steve savored every moment, taste, and sound as his mouth worked him. The blond wanted to memorize every moan and plea that escaped his mouth and know that Steve was the reason for it. The feeling was so vivid that he moaned around his dick, causing the brunet to growl low in his throat as he twisted his body closer. "Oh god, Steve," he whispered breathily as his hands carded through his blond hair. Steve slid his hand along his length, working in time with his mouth. Steve angled his head to open his jaw, taking James’s cock down his throat and swallowing around it. “Fuck, just like that” James groaned encouragingly and Steve deepthroated him again until he needed to pull away for air. Steve continued to work him, and it wasn’t long before James was subconsciously rocking his hips into Steve’s mouth, drawing closer to his climax. It was a mere moment before James was biting his lip hard and coming down Steve’s throat. He tightened his hand in Steve’s hair as he rode out his orgasm, moaning lowly.

Once he rode out his high, he pushed Steve away slightly and quickly righted his clothing; looking down at Steve where he kneeled.

Reality crept back as the various sounds of people dining on the other side of the door combined with the sound of their heavy breathing. "You're not forgiven," he said, leaving the room without another word.

Steve stood up slowly and watched the door close behind him, trying to sort out what had just happened. He should have been furious. He should have ran out after James and made him finish what he started. But a smile lifted at the corner of the blond’s mouth and he almost laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts. Damn him, he did it again. Once more the brunet proved to be Steve’s equal as he beat him at his own game. Only one thought stood out in Steve’s mind: game on, Barnes.

\---

Steve’s night had been hell. He'd hardly slept or eaten, and he had suffered a near-constant hard-on since leaving the restaurant yesterday. He knew he was in for it as he headed to work. James was going to do everything he could to torture and punish Steve for lying to him; the sick thing was…the blond was kind of looking forward to it. He was such an asshole, and yet somehow it seemed to make him want the younger man more.

Steve was surprised to find the outer office empty upon his arrival. Strange, he thought, James was never late.

He continued his way into his office and began getting things in order for the day. Fifteen minutes later, he was distracted from a phone call when he heard the outer door slam. Well, James certainly didn't disappoint; Steve could hear drawers and files slamming a bit harder than necessary, and knew this would make for an interesting day.

At 10:15 the blond was interrupted by his intercom. "Mr. Rogers." His cool voice filled the quiet room and despite his obvious annoyance, Steve found himself smirking as he pressed the button to respond.

"Yes, Mr. Barnes?" he answered back sarcastically.

"We need to be in the conference room in fifteen minutes. You then have the lunch meeting with the president of Kelly Industries at 12:30," he stated, his tone entirely professional.

"Are you not accompanying me there?" Steve asked in confusion; this was an extremely rare occurrence.

Part of him wondered if he was just avoiding being alone with Steve again. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"No, sir. Strictly management only," he replied nonchalantly, and the blond heard his papers rustling as he continued to speak. "Besides, I have the arrangements for Seattle to make anyway."

Well, that made sense…Steve supposed. "Alright, I'll be out in a moment," Steve retorted and let his finger slide off the button, standing up to adjust his tie and button his jacket.

When Steve stepped out of his office, his eyes landed on the brunet immediately. With his tablet and pen in hand, he stood and glanced over at the blond. "Are you ready, Mr. Rogers?" he said in a casual tone as he turned and began walking down the hall toward the elevators. 

Standing in the crowded lift, their bodies were unintentionally pressed together and Steve had to stifle a groan. It could have been his imagination but he thought he saw a hint of a smirk as James "accidentally" brushed against his semi-erect cock. This man was evil and confusing, and never ceased to amaze Steve.

For the next two hours, Steve was in his own personal hell. Every time he looked at the brunet he was doing something to bring him to his knees; sly glances, licking his bottom lip. At one point, he dropped his pen and casually placed his hand on Steve’s thigh as he bent down to retrieve it from under the table.

Leaning over the blond whispered in his ear, "What exactly do you think you're doing, Mr. Barnes?" He didn't meet Steve’s eyes as he busied herself looking at the documents before him.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Rogers," he answered quietly.

"Oh, I think you do, you little tease. Are we going to talk about this?"

"I believe…," he said, finally meeting Steve’s eyes quickly before looking away. "…that we've already discussed the matter. I told you yesterday - you are not forgiven."

Looking around to make sure the others were still interested in the slide show, the blond leaned in closer and whispered, "Well, that being said, I'd still like another chance to prove how sorry I am." He might have appeared cool on the outside, but Steve knew him well enough to see through it.

"Mr. Rogers, I'm quite sure that your days of proving anything to me are over."

"I don't think I'd be so sure about that, Mr. Barnes," Steve said before sitting back in his chair. What the hell was he doing? Was he insane? This was the wrong person to taunt, even Steve knew that.

As Murphy's Law would have it, the meeting lasted longer than expected and Sam, Tony and Steve had to leave immediately for the lunch meeting that followed. He nodded and spoke at appropriate times, but he was never really mentally there. He was more intent on getting through this meeting so he could get back to the office and sort out what game James was playing.

We returned to find Mr. Barnes on the phone, speaking almost inaudibly. "Well, I'm gonna let you go. I have some things to take care of and I'll let you know as soon as I can about my visit. You need to get some sleep, ok?" he said softly. After a brief pause, he chuckled lightly, but then didn't say anything else for a prolonged moment. Neither Steve nor the two men beside him dared say anything. "I love you too, Becca."

Steve’s stomach tightened as he heard the loving tone in his voice with those words. When he turned around in his chair, his eyes went wide at the sight of them standing there behind his and he began gathering the paperwork on his desk. He glared at Steve before turning a softer glance to the rest of the group.

"How did the meeting go, Sam? Tony?" he said sweetly as if Steve wasn't in the room. He rolled his eyes at the juvenile behavior.

"Well, James," Sam stated, smiling at him warmly. "It went smoothly, as always. You and Natasha really do a superb job taking care of things. I don't know what everyone would do without the two of you." His eyebrow lifted slightly and he cleared his throat to speak.

"Well sir, that's something I actually need to speak with Steve about. He's going to find out; I'm going to need to take some time off to go home for a while." The blond was surprised by the brief sense of panic he felt at those words. James never asked for a vacation, and rarely even called in a sick day, so his sudden request took Steve off guard.

"When?" Steve asked, trying to appear casual.

Sam stepped forward before Steve could speak and placed his hand on the brunet’s shoulder. "I think that's an excellent idea. You haven't visited your sister in a while; this will be good for you."

"But," Steve tried to interrupt but Sam shook his head.

"There's nothing you can't manage with the help of a temp, Steve," he said sternly. Steve felt his jaw clench.

"We can discuss this later. Right now, the three of you are due for a phone conference in Mr. Rogers's office," he said smiling warmly to them and avoiding Steve’s eyes entirely.

He nodded his head, but inside Steve was fuming. There was no doubt in his mind that while his wish to see his sister was genuine, this was also a way to put some distance between them. Maybe this would be a good thing; remove the temptation to avoid falling victim. "Of course. Enjoy your vacation, Mr. Barnes."

And with that he walked into his, making his way to his desk, Sam and Tony entered a moment later. They said nothing as they made themselves comfortable, and Steve avoided looking at them as he went over some paperwork on his desk.

"Steve." Steve sighed at Sam's stern tone and set his pen down before meeting his brown eyes. He was sitting on the leather couch, a disappointed look on his face. "Steve, do we really need to keep going over this?" he asked quietly.

"Don't waste your time, Sam," Tony chimed in from across the room. He was standing near the large window, leaning forward watching the traffic below. "I've already had this conversation with him. It won't do any good." Steve frowned as he peered at him. Judas.

"I just don't understand why you two can't be pleasant to each other. You're both smart, wonderful, determined individuals who obviously work together well. I've never heard you say one remark in regards to his performance." Steve thought he heard a snicker come from Tony but his attention was quickly drawn back to Sam. "I guess I'm just failing to see the connection here, it's been almost a year. Why can't you two just get along like normal adults?" he asked plainly.

Before he could even contemplate an answer, Tony turned to face him. "I'll tell you the same thing I told him, they're too much alike. They're both too stubborn to back down and too hard-headed to admit when they've judged someone wrong," he said smugly.

"I agree with him, Steve. I've seen the way you two work together; you're an amazing team. You just need to let that carry over onto a personal level." His face turned suddenly serious.

"You two have the IABC Workshop in Seattle the week after next, am I right?" Steve nodded stiffly, not liking where this was heading.

"For three days, you and James will be together without the buffer of office doors, and there won't be anyone there to run interference. I expect you to behave well and treat him with the utmost respect. And before you get defensive," he added, holding his hands up as he sensed Steve’s quick rebuttal. "I've already spoken to James about this." The blond’s eyes widened and flew to Sam’s face. He had talked to Mr. Barnes about their personal relationship?

"Yes, I'm aware that it's not just you; and he's assured me that he gives every bit as good as he gets. Why do you think I suggested him as your assistant in the first place? There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he could hold his own with you. How many assistants did you go through the year before James?" he asked with a smirk on his face.

Tony didn't even try to hide his snicker this time. It was true that while working for LVMH, Steve had gone through two assistants during his final year, but that had been due to his high expectations. It was nothing like his current situation with Mr. Barnes.

He frowned slightly as the realization hit him: James had essentially spoken in Steve’s defense. He could have easily made it sound like Steve was unfair to him, but instead, he told Sam that he was just as much to blame and could handle it. Saying Steve was shocked would be an understatement.

"I'll admit that the relationship Mr. Barnes and I have is unconventional," the blond began, praying that no one saw how true that statement really was. "But I assure you, it in no way interferes with our ability to conduct business. You have nothing to worry about." This seemed to placate his friend, and the subject moved on to other matters as we awaited their call.

"So," Tony began. "Did you guys hear about the little poker game some of the interns set up in the mailroom last night? I'm told it was quite the event." He shook his head as the laughter overtook him.

"They are an interesting bunch of characters," Sam stated humorously. "Tony, how in the world do you find out about all this?" Even Steve was curious.

"Oh, I know pretty much everything that goes on around here," he remarked. It might have been Steve’s guilty conscience, but he swore he looked at Steve longer than necessary. "I have to tell you some of those interns scare the hell out of me." His laughter brought on Steve’s own chuckle; he couldn't have agreed more. Their conversation was cut short as the intercom buzzed, informing them that their call was ready to begin.

The rest of the day was busy but rather uneventful. The more thought Steve gave it, the more Mr. Barnes's impending vacation seemed like a good idea. He was spending far too much time and energy thinking about the situation. He hardly remembered a thing from that morning's meeting, and Steve, of all people, knew that wasn't a very good way to do business. The sheer magnitude of this distraction was so far out of character for him, that it was actually a bit frightening. It would be best to get a handle on things before spending three days together, with only a thin hotel wall separating them. Despite his best efforts, that simple thought was enough to cause his cock to harden slightly. Steve knew he was in for another long night.

The next few days were extremely busy. Steve had no more than a few moments at a time alone with James, which strangely seemed to add to the sexual tension that constantly pulsed between them. Small things, like his hand brushing Steve’s as he passed him something during a meeting, a glance across the table as they sat in on a lunch conference, or even the sound of his voice on the blond’s voicemail, seemed to amp up Steve’s libido even more.

When Thursday morning dawned, Steve knew they needed to have some sort of discussion. He would be away from the office all day Friday, and today was their last day together for the rest of the week. His assistant had been at a class with the other executive assistants all morning, and Steve felt himself getting anxious in regards to what he would say to James. He knew he wanted to fuck him again; there was absolutely no question about that. Despite his inappropriate thoughts, his conscience and his own need for self-preservation had been plaguing Steve all week.

James was right to put distance between them. This pull they felt when they were together was entirely unhealthy. Nothing good could come from it, and Steve decided once again to use the time apart to build up some sort of resistance to the brunet. Entering the office after lunch he was surprised to find him seated at his desk busily working on the computer. Steve stopped as he reached the door, once again taken aback by how handsome he really was. Strong jaw, full lips, proportioned nose, icy-blue eyes, fluffy brown hair. Steve would never tell him that, but it was impossible to ignore.

"I didn't know you would be in, Mr. Barnes," he said, trying to keep any emotion from his voice.

"Yes, I had some last-minute arrangements to handle with regards to Seattle, and I still needed to discuss my absence with you," he said, never looking up from his computer monitor.

"Would you like to step into my office, then?" Steve asked, not sure how he wanted him to respond.

"No," he said quickly. "I think we can handle this out here." Looking up at Steve with a sly look he motioned to the chair opposite his desk. "Would you like to have a seat, Mr. Rogers?" Ahhh, the home-court advantage. The blond almost chuckled as he realized that James was using one of his own tricks against him. Steve hesitantly took the seat across from him and waited for him to begin.

"I know you'll be gone tomorrow, so there's no reason for me to be here. I've arranged for you to have a temp while I'm gone next week, and I've already given Natasha a detailed list of your schedule and things you'll need. I doubt there will be any problems, but just in case, she's promised to keep an eye on you," he raised an eyebrow in challenge and Steve rolled his eyes in return.

"You have my numbers, including the number of my sister's home in Forks, if you need anything."

He began going through a list in front of himself, and Steve noticed how cool and efficient he was. It wasn't that he wasn't already aware of these things, but somehow it seemed a bit more apparent to the blond right now. Looking up, their eyes met and he continued, "I'll just plan on picking you up at the airport in Seattle."

Their eyes held for a few moments, and Steve was almost positive that their thoughts were the same; Seattle would be a colossal test. If they could somehow manage to stay away from each other there, maybe everything would be alright.

The atmosphere in the room began to shift slowly, the silence saying more than words ever could. Steve clenched his jaw tightly as he noticed that James’s breathing had picked up. It took every bit of will power he had to not walk around the desk and kiss him. "So, I'll meet you in Seattle then," Steve said softly, meaning more than his words entailed.

"Yes," he answered flatly.

"Have a nice trip, Mr. Barnes," he said, his voice showing none of the inner turmoil he felt. Steve stood, nodding curtly to him and walking into his office, shutting the door behind himself.

\---

All weekend, he thought about what it would be like to have Mr. Barnes gone for an entire week. On one hand, it would be nice to enjoy a full day at work without a hard-on or having to partake in a bathroom "session." On the other, he wondered if it would feel odd not having him there. He'd been a near constant in Steve’s life for the last year, and regardless of his dislike for the younger man personally, it was somewhat comforting to have him around.

\---

Natasha entered his office at nine o'clock sharp, smiling brightly as she approached him. She was followed by an attractive twenty-something brunette who was introduced as Hope, his new temporary assistant. She looked up at Steve with a somewhat timid smile, and he saw Natasha place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Steve frowned a bit, realizing what that meant: she'd already been informed about his shitty attitude. Great.

Steve decided that he would use this as an opportunity. He would prove to everyone that his undeserved reputation was simply a result of working with someone as unpleasant as Mr. Barnes, and not related to Steve in any way.

"It's very nice to meet you, Hope," Steve said, smiling widely while offering her his hand to shake. She looked at him strangely, with a sort of glazed over expression across her face, before shaking her head slightly and taking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, too, sir," she said hesitantly, as she looked at Natasha questioningly. Natasha looked down at his hand and back up to him strangely before speaking to Hope.

"Okay. Well, I've already gone over with you everything that James left for me. Here's your desk," she said leading her over to Mr. Barnes's chair.

A strange feeling crept over Steve at the image of someone else sitting there. He didn't like it; he knew that much already. He felt his smile falter and he turned to Natasha, "Well, if she needs anything she'll let you know. I'll be in my office." Before turning, he saw the frightened look Hope exchanged with her. He knew he should be sorry, but he just couldn't find it in himself to care.

Hope quit before lunch. Apparently Steve came off a bit gruff when she spilled coffee on his desk and managed to start a small fire in the breakroom microwave. The last he saw of her, she was in tears sprinting out his door, wailing something about a hostile work environment.

The second temp came in around two o'clock that afternoon in the form of a young man named Pietro.

Pietro seemed highly intelligent, and Steve looked forward to working with someone other than an emotional female. He found himself smiling at the sudden turn of events. Unfortunately, he spoke too soon.

Sitting next to Pietro during a financial presentation downtown, Steve became a bit uncomfortable and realized that all might not be what it seemed. Every so often Steve would feel his wool-covered calf brush up against his own under the table, or catch a lingering look at Steve’s lap from the corner of his eye. Huh.

Well, this was certainly not his first. But Steve was just not attracted to him or anyone else for that matter while he had been involved with James. Steve’s suspicions were confirmed as they stood in the elevator awaiting their floor. As the door opened and a few more bodies entered, the blond was pushed back into Pietro's body. His head snapped up at the feeling of something firm pressing into his backside. Pietro was gone within fifteen minutes.

The third was no better. Her name was Jane; she talked too much, her clothing was too tight and the way she gnawed on the cap of her pen made her look like an animal trying to free itself from a trap. It was nothing like the way Mr. Barnes would pensively hold the end of his pen between his teeth when he was deep in thought. That was subtle and sexy, but this was nothing short of obscene. She was gone by Tuesday afternoon.

The week continued on in much the same way, with Steve going through five different assistants. He heard the booming laugh of Tony in the hall outside his office on more than one occasion.

Jackass. He didn't even work on this floor. Steve began to feel that people were enjoying his misery a bit too much and maybe even saw it as a case of reaping what he sowed.

Although he had absolutely no doubt that Mr. Barnes had already been informed of his temp nightmares by Natasha, Steve received several texts from him throughout the week, checking on how things were going. He began looking forward to the texts, even checking his phone periodically to see if he might have missed a notification. Steve hated to admit it, but at this point, he would have traded his right nut and his Porsche to have him and him harpy disposition back.

It was obvious that besides missing his body, which Steve did desperately, he had to admit that he also missed the rivalry they had between them. He knew Steve was an asshole, and he put up with it. The blond had no idea why, but he did. He felt his respect for James’s professionally, as well as personally, grow during that week apart. He found himself wondering what he was doing and who he was doing it with. Steve wondered briefly if he'd had any more phone calls with Brock. They had managed to reach a precarious cease-fire in regards to the flower incident, and Steve wondered if he had called to follow up. He briefly considered calling Peggy and casually asking if she knew whether they'd ever gone out, but he knew that would only invite more questions.

\---

Steve started packing for his flight on Sunday night and heard his phone chirp from the bed next to his suitcase. He reached for it and was surprised by the name.

‘Pick u up tomorrow morning, 11:30.  
Terminal B near arrival screens. Text when you land.’

Steve paused for a moment, realizing that he would see James tomorrow.

‘I will.  
Thanks’

Steve briefly wondered if he would respond, but quickly pushed the thought aside and resumed packing.

When his phone chirped again a minute later, he found himself staring at it. Surely that couldn't be him again.

‘You're welcome.  
Everything go okay?’

Steve was a bit taken back that he had inquired as to the rest of his week. They were in such uncharted territory here. They texted and emailed frequently, but it was usually restricted to simple yes or no answers. Never anything personal. Was it possible he had the same strange frustrating week that Steve had?

‘Great.  
You?’

The blond laughed softly as he pushed send; this situation kept getting stranger. Less than a minute later he received another one.

‘My sister is great. I've missed her.  
Excited to come home.  
See you tomorrow.’

Setting the alarm on his phone, Steve placed it on the nightstand and sat next to his luggage on the bed. He would see him in less than twelve hours. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. Steve’s life had become so unsettled, and it was a state that was completely foreign to him. There were so many reasons why he had to stay away from James, and so many more why he couldn't. He'd done so well all week, but he had been 2,000 miles away. What would happen when they spent all day together and he was just down the hall from Steve at night? He wasn't sure he was ready for that. He shrugged as he realized that whether he was ready or not, it was coming. He just hoped he had the strength to resist.


	10. Resolve

Just as he'd hoped, the drive to Seattle Monday morning had given him time to think. Bucky felt loved and rested after his visit with his sister, they'd spent time together talking and reminiscing about their parents and planning a trip for her to come out to New York.  
By the time he said goodbye, Bucky felt as prepared as possible considering the situation. He was nervous as hell to face Mr. Rogers again, but he'd done his best to try and psyche himself up. He'd done a ton of online shopping and had a suitcase full of new business attire, he'd thought long and hard about his options, and he was pretty sure he had a plan.

The first step was to admit why Bucky had actually left, he knew now that he'd gone to Forks in the hopes that he could hide from his problems. He'd realized pretty early on that it wasn't working. Being two thousand miles apart had done nothing to calm his need for the blond.

Bucky had dreamt of him nearly every night, waking each morning frustrated and lonely. The brunet spent far too much time thinking about what Mr. Rogers was doing, wondering if he was as confused as Bucky, and trying to glean every bit of information he could from Natasha about how things were going back home.

They'd had an interesting conversation Tuesday when she'd called and informed Bucky of the status of his replacement. He'd laughed hysterically hearing about the revolving door of temps. Of course, his boss was having a hard time keeping anyone around. He was an asshole.

Bucky was used to his mood swings and gruff attitude; honestly, they didn't even phase the brunet anymore. He knew he was good at his job and he prided himself on his ability to hold his own with his boss. Professionally their relationship ran like clockwork, it was personally that they were a nightmare. Almost everyone knew it; they just didn't know the extent of the situation.

Bucky thought back often to their last day together. Something in their relationship was shifting, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He'd told him that their physical relationship was over, and he knew he had to try to keep to that. Bucky didn't know if he could succeed, but for his own self-preservation, he had to at least try.

When he was completely honest with himself, he knew that he was scared. He was terrified that this man, who was all wrong for Bucky had more control over his body than Bucky did, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Standing in the arrival area, the brunet gave himself one last pep talk. He could do this. Oh God, he hoped he could do this. The butterflies in his stomach were working overtime and he briefly worried he might throw up.

His plane had been delayed in New York and it was after 6:30 before he finally touched down in Seattle.

Seven extra hours of thinking had done nothing to calm Bucky’s nerves.

He stood on his tiptoes trying to get a better view through the crowd but didn't see him. Looking down at his phone, Bucky reread Mr. Rogers’s text again.

‘Just landed-see you in a few.’

There was nothing sweet about it in the slightest, but it caused his stomach to flutter nonetheless.

Their texts last night had been the same way. It wasn't that they said anything special; he'd merely inquired as to how the rest of the blond’s week had gone. That wouldn't be considered unusual in any other relationship, but it was a completely new occurrence for them. Maybe there was a chance they could actually get past the constant animosity and actually be what? Friends?

Bucky paced back and forth, willing his mind to switch gears and his heart rate to calm. This was going to be harder than he thought. Without thinking, he stopped mid-step and turned towards the oncoming crowd. A thrill ran through the brunet as he stepped forward, searching through the sea of unknown faces; his body already responding to his nearness. His breath caught in his throat when a head of blond hair appeared above the others. Get a hold of yourself Bucky. Shit.

He tried once more to get his body under control and looked up again. Fuck. He was so screwed. There he was, looking sexier than Bucky had ever seen him. How the hell does someone get better looking in nine days? His hair was a nightmare as usual; no doubt he'd had his hands in it a hundred times during the last hour. He wore black slacks, a dark charcoal blazer and a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned slightly. He looked tired and had a bit of stubble on his face, but that wasn't what had Bucky’s heart beating a mile a minute. He had been looking down at the ground, but the moment their eyes met, the blond’s face split into the most genuine, beautiful smile he'd ever seen. Before Bucky could stop it he felt his own smile spread slowly across his face in return. Well, this was certainly new.

Mr. Rogers stopped in front of him, a slightly more tense look upon his face, while both of them waited for the other to say something. "Hi," Bucky said awkwardly, trying to ease some of the tension between them. Every part of him wanted to pull him into the restroom, but somehow he doubted that was the proper way to greet his boss.

"Um, hi," he answered, his brow furrowed slightly.

Fuck, snap out of it Bucky! They both turned, heading towards the baggage claim and Bucky felt goosebumps spread across his skin just being near him.

"Sooo…how was your flight?" he inquired. This was so ridiculous. Bucky wished he would just say something stupid so the younger man could go back to yelling at him. That was so much easier to deal with.

He thought about it for a moment before answering, "It was pleasant enough, once we actually got off the ground." They stopped and waited, surrounded by bustling people, but the only thing the brunet noticed was the tension building between them.

Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence and he was more than a bit relieved when he saw Mr. Rogers’s black Louis Vuitton luggage slide down the conveyor belt. They both reached for it at the same time and their hands touched briefly on the handle. Pulling his hand back, Bucky glanced up at him to find his boss was watching him.

His stomach dropped at the familiar look of hunger in his blue eyes. They both muttered apologies and Bucky looked away quickly, but not before noticing the slight smirk on his face. Fortunately, it was time to pick up the rental car, and they headed towards the parking garage. This was not going to plan.

His eyes widened and a look of pure appreciation spread across his face as we approached the rental car, a new Audi TT. He loved to drive, well he loved to drive fast would be a more accurate description, and Bucky always made a point of ordering something fun for him when he needed a rental car.

"Very nice, Mr. Barnes," he said appreciatively, his hand sliding along the hood of the beautiful sports car. "Remind me to give you a raise."

Bucky nearly choked at the blond’s words and his eyes flew to him in shock. He shrugged his shoulders, giving the brunet an innocent look and he could have killed him. He was fucking with Bucky.

Pressing the button to release the trunk Bucky gave him a reproachful look and stepped aside for him to put his things away. He took off his jacket and handed it to Bucky, and he swore to God, the scent made his cock twitch.

Bucky watched the splay of muscles across his back through his shirt as he placed his luggage in the trunk next to the brunet’s; irritatingly fascinated by the way they clenched and tightened with his movements.

Closing the lid and breaking Bucky out of his daze, Mr. Rogers turned to him to take his jacket and Bucky placed the keys in his hand. He walked over and opened his assistant’s door, waiting for him to be seated before closing it behind Bucky. Yeah, you're a real gentleman, Bucky thought sarcastically. Then with a quick walk to the other side, he settled into his own seat and smiled as he started the car. Bucky rolled his eyes as he revved the engine before pulling out of the spot.

They drove in silence, the only sound the purr of the engine and the GPS calling out directions to the hotel. Bucky busied himself going over their schedule, trying to ignore the man next to him. Bucky wanted to look at him, to study his face. He wanted to reach out and touch the slight stubble on his jaw, to tell him to pull over and touch him.

All these thoughts ran through the brunet’s mind, making it impossible to concentrate on the papers in front of him. The time apart hadn't lessened his hold over Bucky at all. If anything it made it stronger. With a sigh, he closed the folder in his lap and turned to look out the window.

They must have passed tall buildings and people on the streets, but he didn't see a thing. The only thing that pierced his consciousness was his boss. Bucky felt every movement, every breath. His talented fingers tapped along the steering wheel. The leather sighing when he shifted in his seat. His scent filled the car and made it impossible to remember why Bucky needed to resist. The blond completely surrounded him.

The brunet didn't want to want him. He needed to be strong and be his own person, to prove that he controlled his path in life, but every part of Bucky ached to feel him. He didn't want to feel all this… this wasn't the person he wanted to be. He needed to regroup at the hotel, remember the anger and hurt that this man had caused, and be the strong man Bucky knew he was.

"Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?" The sound of his voice startled Bucky and he turned to meet his baby blue eyes, his stomach fluttering at the intensity behind them. "We're here." He motioned to the hotel, and Bucky was surprised to see he hadn't even noticed. "Is everything alright?" He looked concerned, and Bucky was a bit taken back by it. It's not that he wasn't aware his boss could be caring and kind; it was just rarely ever directed towards the brunet.

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "I'm just tired. I want to get up to my room and shower and go to bed."

"Hmm," He murmured to himself, continuing to look at Bucky. He saw his gaze flicker to Bucky’s mouth, and God, he wanted the blond to kiss him. Badly. As if drawn to him, Bucky leaned forward slightly in his seat, the soft leather of the chair creaking. A hum of electricity buzzed between them, and his gaze once again flickered to the younger man’s lips. He leaned in to meet Bucky, and he could feel his hot breath against his own mouth.

Bucky was startled out of the moment when his door opened suddenly and he jumped back into his seat, shocked to see the valet driver standing there. Clearing his throat and feeling more than a little embarrassed that Bucky was once again falling into his trap, he stepped out of the car, inhaling the air that wasn't permeated by his scent. The valet took the bags, and Mr. Rogers excused himself to take a phone call while Bucky checked them in.

The beautiful hotel was packed with fellow conference-goers, and he saw several familiar faces. Usually, Bucky met up with a group of other assistants and they went to dinner or a club while in town together.

The brunet waved to someone he recognized and was glad he had planned ahead when he packed. It would be great to get out with some friends while they were here. The last thing Bucky needed was to sit alone in his hotel room and fantasize about the beautiful man down the hall.

After receiving their keys, Bucky headed to the lounge in search of Mr. Rogers. As he scanned the large room he was surprised to find his boss standing next to a tall brunette. They stood close together, his head bent slightly as he listened to something she said.

His body blocked her face from Bucky’s view, and his eyes narrowed when he noticed her hand reach up and grip his forearm. She laughed at something he'd said and he pulled away slightly, allowing Bucky a better look.

She was incredibly beautiful, with shoulder-length, straight dark hair. She looked up and their eyes met across the room. Quirking an eyebrow at Bucky...in challenge? She looked back up at Mr. Rogers, smiling as she placed something in his hand and folded his fingers around it.

A strange look crossed his face as he bent his head to examine the object in his palm. You have got to be kidding me! Did she - did she just give him her room key? What the hell?

The younger man watched for a moment more, and then something inside him snapped. The thought of the blond looking at someone else with the same intensity, the thought of him wanting someone else at all, made Bucky’s stomach twist with anger.

He'd told himself over and over that he'd stay away. But in that moment, with his hand gripping her room key, all sense of reason disappeared. All Bucky felt was anger and that increasingly familiar sense of possession.

He was Bucky’s, and he’d be damned if someone was going to take this man from him. Before Bucky could stop himself, he was moving across the room until he stood beside them.

Bucky placed his hand on Mr. Rogers’s forearm, and he looked over to meet Bucky’s eyes; a surprised, questioning expression on his face. He smiled and before turning to glare at her. "Excuse me," Bucky sneered. He inwardly cheered at the confused look on her face.

"Steve, are you ready to head upstairs?" Bucky said softly to him.

His eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock. He'd never seen him look so utterly at a loss for words. "Steve?" Bucky asked once more and something flickered across his eyes. Slowly the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk and their gazes held for a moment. Something passed between them and he felt both thrilled and frightened at the same time.

Turning back to her, he smiled and spoke in a voice so smooth it sent a tremor through Bucky. "Excuse us," he said, placing her key back in her hand. "As you can see, I didn't come here alone." A sense of euphoria flowed over the brunet at those words, completely overriding the horror he should have been feeling.

Bucky glanced back at her victoriously; thrilled to see the shocked and insulted look on her face.

He felt his warm hand rest on the small of Bucky’s back as he led us out of the lounge and down the hall.

However the closer they got to the elevators, the more his elation was replaced with something else. Bucky began to panic as he realized how irrationally he had acted.

His heart was racing, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. Three other couples joined them in the elevator, and Bucky prayed to God he could make it to his room before he exploded. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. What the hell happened to trying to stay away from him? Bucky glanced up to see him wearing a triumphant smirk, and was again filled with fury over this entire situation.

The brunet took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that this was why he needed to stay away. What happened down there was completely out of character for him. He'd crossed a line he had very carefully drawn between them. He wanted to scream at him, to hurt him and enrage him like he had to Bucky, but it was getting harder and harder to find the will.

They rode up in a tense silence, until the last couple stepped out, leaving them alone. Bucky tried to tell himself to wait, just a few minutes more and he would be safe, but the fight was over before it started.

Bucky didn't want him with someone else, and that feeling was so overwhelming that it took his breath away.

He wanted the blond with every part of him. He needed him.

Bucky’s body reacted on instinct. He gripped Mr. Rogers’s shirt roughly, pushing him against the elevator wall, and pulled his mouth to his own. The air left his lungs as Bucky’s body collided against his. He froze momentarily before groaning deeply and melting against his assistant’s lips.

Every second of being away from him erupted in that kiss. The longing and ache Bucky felt was reflected in every sweep of his tongue and brush of his lips. He took a step forward wanting to be closer. It was never enough.

His arms went around Bucky and an alarm finally sounded in his head. He couldn't do this. The lift stopped and he pushed him away. What was he doing? He promised himself he would try. Instead, he threw himself at him the first moment they were truly alone. Where was his self-respect? Had he lost it all?

He looked at Bucky, confusion marring his features as he panted for breath, surely seeing the panic in Bucky’s eyes. He had to get away. "I promised myself I wouldn't do this." Bucky groaned, more to himself than his boss. And before his resistance could collapse completely, he turned, rushing out of the elevator.

"Where the fuck are you going?" He shouted after Bucky.

"I don't want to talk about this now!" he shouted back. Fuck! Did they have to be at the very end of the hall?

Bucky heard his footsteps behind him and knew there was going to be trouble.

He couldn't outrun him forever. And he wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore.

\---

Steve’s POV

What the hell just happened?

Did he-

And then-

What the-

A million thoughts ran through his mind in that second. They couldn't keep doing this. Either this would continue or it had to stop. Now. It was interfering with his business, his sleep, his head, his fucking life. But no matter how much Steve tried to kid himself, he knew what he wanted. He couldn't let him leave.

James practically sprinted down the hall and he chased after him. "Stop!" Steve yelled, oblivious to the occupants of the rooms around them. He ignored Steve, continuing to stride away from him.

"I can't talk to you about this right now. I'm tired and upset and I just need some sleep."

"You can't pull something like that and then expect me to just let you walk away!"

"The hell I can't!" He yelled over his shoulder. He reached his door and fumbled with his key slightly before shoving it open. Shit! They had to talk about this now! They were always running away from each other, and what was going on.

Steve was fucking tired of running.

Steve reached the door just in time, and his eyes met the blond’s briefly before he pushed it closed. His hand shot out, slamming it back so forcefully that it crashed into the wall behind it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he screamed. He stepped into the bathroom opposite the door and spun around to face his boss.

"Will you quit fucking running from me?!" Steve followed him into the large marble bathroom, their voices echoing off the walls. "Don't act like this! If it's about that woman-" He looked impossibly more furious at Steve’s words and took a step towards him.

"Don't you dare-God, I'm just so sick of this!" He shook his head in disgust before turning towards the counter.

"I wasn't going to do anything! Do you think I would be interested in just any random woman who puts her room key in my hand? What the hell kind of man do you think I am?" Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hadn't he told James he hadn't been with anyone else since him? Where was this all coming from? "Did you not understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" He slammed his fist on the counter, looking up at Steve furiously. "I'm not like this! I don't just sleep with random men. I'm twenty-six and I've only been with three other men my entire life! I've never done anything close to this!" he yelled, his voice getting louder with each word. "But when I'm with you, it's like nothing else matters. This…this thing," he continued, gesturing between them, "This isn't me! It's like I turn into a different person when I'm with you, and I hate it. Maybe you can just sleep with whoever you want, but that's not who I am!"

Steve couldn't believe what he was saying. It was true that he hadn't given much thought to his personal life, now or ever really. Steve had no idea that there was even a ghost of a chance that he might feel like that. Sure, the blond had slept with my fair share of women and men, but he had to know how different this was for Steve by now.

"I don't want anyone else!" Steve yelled back. "I only want you." he felt like he was shattering into a million pieces. His life felt out of control, and he turned to leave, all the while knowing that he'd never be strong enough to actually go. He heard James take a deep breath.

His voice was shaky when he spoke. "Look - I don't care. You just do whatever the hell you want to do and leave me alone. Now if you'll excuse me."

He turned towards the shower, opening the glass door and turning on the water, and then turned to look at Steve, waiting for him to go.

Steve couldn't leave. It wasn't a choice anymore. Without thinking he crossed the room, gripping his face between his hands and pulled James to him. The moment their lips touched, everything felt right.

Steve’s lips were rough and unyielding but he didn't move away. Wrapping his hands in Steve’s hair, he pulled and clawed, drawing the blond closer. Steve moaned loudly into his mouth as the familiar weight of his body pressed against Steve’s. His hands went to the younger man’s hair, pulling roughly, as his body pushed James backward. He was lost to everything but the man in front of him. They bumped into a wall, the counter, the shower door, shifting and pulling in their desperation. The room was filling with steam, and nothing seemed real. Steve could smell, taste and feel James, but none of it was enough.

They broke their kiss to breathe, and he dragged his lips down closer to the brunet’s ear. "I don't want to stop anymore," Steve groaned against his skin, begging him wordlessly not to ask it of himself.

"Don't stop," he whispered. Steve’s body stilled, his hot breath shaky and heavy in James’s ear as he reveled in both the sound and meaning of his words. Closing his eyes, Steve let the feeling consume him.

"Tell me." the blond ran his nose down his neck, never freeing him from his grasp. He pushed and writhed against Steve, silently begging him to take him. Steve couldn't though, not yet, not until he heard James say it. He couldn't surrender alone. They had to be in this together. "Tell me you want me…only me."

James’s breath caught, and he quietly sighed, "Only you."

Steve’s last wall fell the moment he said those words. Steve brought his eyes to the brunet’s, running his thumb across his lip. His mouth was inches from Steve’s, his hot breath fanning across the blonds’s face. He leaned in to press his lips to Steve, but he stopped him for a moment. Steve waited for the fight to rise in him, for the hate to take over, but it never came. For the first time in his life, he was admitting defeat. It was fucking scary as hell but Steve just couldn't fight it anymore. With one last shaky breath, Steve closed his eyes and brought James’s lips to his own.

Their kisses were deeper, their touches wilder. He pushed Steve back against the wall and he gave himself over to the younger man. A rush of warmth cascading across his shoulder and down his chest brought Steve out of his haze momentarily. With their clothes still on, they had backed into the shower. They were getting soaked but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

James’s hands roamed the blond’s body frantically, yanking his shirt from his pants. In one motion he tore open the front, the sound of tinkling buttons bouncing off the marble floor. With shaky hands, he slid the wet fabric from Steve’s shoulders and tossed it outside the shower door.

James’s clothes were also pulled against his body with the water. Steve’s hands traced the fabric along his chest, feeling his tight nipples underneath. James moaned and brought his hand to rest on Steve’s, guiding his movements. The sight of his hand covering Steve’s own was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen, making his impossibly hard cock throb and ache.

"Tell me what you want." Steve’s voice was rough with need. "Tell me the things you want me to do to you." Steve bit his lip as his blue eyes met Steve’s, their hands continuing to knead and pinch his nipples through his shirt, their faces only a breath apart.

"I want to feel you everywhere," James whispered into Steve’s mouth. He bit his lip again and a groan escaped. This man would be his undoing. Everything about him called to Steve; his body, his mind, even his temper.

Steve moved to undo the buttons on James’s shirt, ridding him of the wet clothing. They teased and bit at each other's mouths, the sound of the shower drowning out their moans. Steve then moved to work on his pants, undoing his belt and helping James out of the slacks.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Steve said, running his fingertips along the lean muscle of James’s torso. A visible shiver ran through him and Steve’s hand traveled upward, across his collar bone, along his neck and finally to the brunet’s jaw.

They could fuck right here, wet and slippery against the tile, but Steve wanted to take his time. His heart sped up at the thought that they had an entire night ahead of them. No rushing out or hiding for once. They had one whole night alone and Steve was going to spend the entire time with him…in a bed.

The blond’s body shuddered as that thought took hold. He would make every moment count. Pulling James to him until their chests were touching, He reached behind the younger man, and turned off the shower. His lips grazed James’s lightly at first, then once again more firmly. He pushed against Steve, pressing his body further into Steve’s own. He cradled his face in his hands as their kiss deepened, his tongue sliding easily against his.

His hips rocked against Steve and he pushed the shower door open, holding on to him as they stepped out.

Their kiss never broke as they made their way out of the bathroom, stumbling clumsily while they desperately tore at their remaining clothes. Steve kicked off his wet shoes as he backed James into the bedroom, his hands raking along Steve’s stomach as he reached for the blond’s belt. Guiding his hands, Steve was quickly free of his pants and boxers. In a rush, he kicked them aside where they landed in a wet pile.

Pulling James closer, he groaned into his mouth as their chests pressed into one another again. Steve was so completely lost in the frenzy of their kiss and the power of their physical connection that he had no sense of anything else. James’s body and the way it felt entwined with Steve’s was everything. It was the only thing that mattered.

The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the small sliver of light that crept out from the bathroom door, and the moon in the late Seattle sky. Steve’s mouth moved from his lips, down his neck, and across his chest and torso. The blond placed soft biting kisses across his stomach and finally wrapping his hand around the brunet’s erection. 

Sliding to his knees in front of James, he looked up and met his eyes. His pupils were blown with arousal and dark with hunger. James’s hands were in his hair, carding his fingers through the messy blond strands as he bit his lip. Steve wanted this to be different and he took a calming breath to help him slow his movements.

The backs of his knees were pressed to the edge of the bed and Steve guided him back so that he sat on the edge of the bed, with Steve still kneeling in front of him. Steve moved briefly to retrieve a condom and lube from his suitcase he left haphazardly in the middle of the floor when pursuing James earlier. 

Steve spread his legs slightly, pushing him back to lie across the sheets the blond finally moved up to join him. Steve continued to slowly run his lips and tongue along James’s body, his hands still tangling in Steve’s hair, guiding where he wanted the blond the most.

His sighs and moans filled the air and mingled with Steve’s own. He was harder than he'd ever been and he wanted to bury himself in him over and over again. Steve reached his mouth and he pulled the blond down to him, every inch of their naked bodies aligned perfectly as they kissed and explored.

They kissed frantically, their hands seeking and grasping wildly as they tried to get as close as possible. Their hips rocked together, their cocks sliding against each other. Steve changed James’s position, having the brunet wrap his legs around Steve’s hips. He moved his hand down to stroke him a few times, feeling the precum already gathered there. His fingers continued down until he circled James’s entrance. Steve eventually pushed a single finger in, by now knowing exactly how to open James up. 

It wasn’t before long that the blond added a second finger and expertly continued to open the man below him up. He would curl his fingers just right to brush along James’s prostate, enticing a moan or lip bite from him. Steve went as far as going up to a fourth finger, he practically never did that, knowing James was ready enough after three and maybe even deserved a bit of the sting if he had been particularly bratty at the time. But Steve wanted to make sure he was fully comfortable before he continued, tonight was special, different. 

Steve wanted to be inside him more than anything, but he knew that he needed to hear something from James first.

When he said Steve’s name downstairs, it set something off inside him Steve didn't know existed. He needed him to say it, to hear it was Steve he wanted. The blond didn't need his love or his heart, but he needed to know that for now, he was his and his alone.

"I want to be inside you, James," Steve whispered into his ear. His breath caught and a deep moan emanated from his lips. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes," he whimpered softly, his voice pleading and his hips rocked higher off the bed in search of Steve. "Please." Steve felt his cock twitch at his words. Their dicks slid together again and Steve clenched his jaw, wanting to prolong this. He reached and opened the condom, rolling it on.

Steve took each of his hands and placed them above his head, entwining their fingers. "Look at me," he spoke. "I need to hear it."

The blond’s voice was wavering with the control he felt slipping. James looked up at him and he knew the brunet understood.

"Fuck me, Steve. I need to feel you inside me." the blond’s head fell so their foreheads touched and Steve finally pushed deep inside him. "Oh, fuck," the brunet moaned.

"Say it again." Steve was becoming breathless as he began to move in and out of James.

"Oh, Steve." The breathy sound of his name on the younger man’s lips thrilled Steve. He wanted to hear it again and again. Steve pulled himself up on his knees and began thrusting into him more steadily, both of their hands still entwined.

"Fuck, James, you feel so good around me." Steve was getting close and he needed to hold out. He'd been away from him too long, and nothing he'd fantasized about while he was away compared to this. "I want to fuck you like this every day," Steve growled against his damp skin. "Every time I see you in your fancy dress clothes, I want to bend you over and teach you a lesson for teasing me."

"Fuck." He hissed between clenched teeth. "Why do I love it when you talk to me like that?" Steve smiled against his neck, knowing that he was as helpless to this as the blond was.

Their bodies moved together effortlessly, sweat-slicked skin sliding against skin. With each thrust, he raised his hips to meet Steve, his legs around the blond’s waist pulling him deeper. Steve was so lost in him that time seemed to stop. Their hands were still tightly clasped above James’s head and he began gripping tighter.

The brunet was getting close, his groans becoming louder and Steve’s name leaving his lips over and over, pushing Steve closer to the edge.

"Come for me, James. I want to feel you come around me." Steve’s voice was ragged with the desperation he felt. He was so close but he wanted to wait for James.

"Oh God, Steve," he moaned. "Say something else." Fuck. His boy got off on dirty talk. Wait; did he just say, my boy? "Please." The sound of his pleading was enough to distract Steve from that thought for now, and he turned his head to whisper in his ear.

"I fucking love being inside you, my little tease. I'm gonna fuck you all night long. You won't be able to walk tomorrow." Fuck, if Steve kept this up he was going to lose it. James’s legs pulled him closer, his hands gripping Steve’s so tightly it was almost painful, and he began to feel him tighten around his cock.

That was all it took. Steve let go of his control and deepened his strokes, lifting him off the bed with every thrust. He was teetering on the edge now, and when he cried out Steve’s name, he couldn't hold back any longer. "Fuck! James!"

"Oh God! Steve!" His screams were muffled against Steve’s neck as he felt the brunet’s body go rigid and his muscles contract around him. He came untouched between them and Steve followed close behind. Nothing in the world felt as good as this, feeling the rush build inside and crash over them together.

Their bodies began to calm and he brought his face back to his, their noses touching. "That was…" Steve trailed off, unable to find the words. His mouth was dry, his muscles ached and he was exhausted. Steve loosened his grip on their hands and rubbed James’s fingers gently, trying to bring some of the circulation back. 

"I know." He chuckled weakly against Steve’s lips. Rolling over he pulled him with Steve, his head coming to rest between the blond’s shoulder and neck. He shuddered lightly and he looked down at the brunet. Steve pulled out and rolled off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash can. 

"Cold?" Steve asked, his fingers moving to his still-damp hair.

"No." He answered, shaking his head slightly. "Just….overwhelmed." He pulled the younger man to him and reached down, dragging the blankets over them. Steve didn't want to leave, but he wasn't sure if he was welcome to stay either.

"Me too." The silence stretched between them, and Steve wondered if he had fallen asleep. The blond shifted slightly and was surprised to hear his voice.

"Don't go." He whispered into the darkness. Steve’s breath caught in his throat at the feelings his words caused. Steve wanted to stay, but he was scared to.

This was so new to them, so new to Steve. Had things changed between them? He needed to say something, but he was afraid to say the words. What were they to each other? He was so tired and wanted to wait until morning, but he knew that here in the dark, the words would come easier.

"James," Steve was so surprised at how good it felt to say his name, that something so simple could be so powerful. He felt the brunet stiffen slightly; obviously waiting for Steve to say he was leaving. "I want to stay."

Steve felt him release a deep breath and it fanned across his neck. Steve hesitated with what he needed to say. "I can't stay away from you anymore." Steve paused, still trying to organize his thoughts. "I know it's wrong for me to want you, but…it's never been like this for me before." He’d never had to be so honest with anyone, to admit such a weakness.

"Me either." His words were so quiet Steve wouldn't have heard them if they hadn't been wrapped around each other.

“It’s Bucky.” Steve’s hand stopped carding his hair and he continued, “I prefer to go by Bucky, it’s a- a nickname,” the blond’s hands moved to continue to play with his brown hair.

“Alright, then it’s Bucky,” Steve responded, his exhausted brain too tired to comprehend how personal that piece of information was and his eyes began to drift closed, his breathing had evened out and before long he was lost in sleep.

\---

Steve’s eyes fluttered as another shock of pleasure went through him. Fuck, that felt good. He didn't want to wake up and face the reality that he was alone. Something warm and wet enveloped his cock again and he groaned loudly. Best. Dream. Ever. He heard a moan and a vibration went from his dick straight through him.

"Mmmm, Bucky." Steve heard his own voice and it sounded strange. He'd dreamed of him hundreds of times but this seemed so real. The warmth disappeared and Steve frowned. Where did he go?

"Say it again." A soft, throaty voice broke into the blond’s consciousness and he forced himself to open his eyes.

The room was dark and Steve was lying in a strange bed. The warmth was back and his eyes flew to his lap. A beautiful dark head of hair was kneeling between his open legs, his cock deep in his mouth. In a rush the entire night came back to Steve, the haze of sleep rapidly disappearing.

"Bucky?" There was no way he could be lucky enough for this to be real. He must have gotten up sometime in the night to shut off the bathroom light, the room was so dark Steve could barely make him out. Steve’s hands drifted out to find him, his fingers tracing Bucky’s pink lips around his dick.

He lifted his head slightly and the blond groaned at the image of his cock in his mouth. His head fell back to the pillow as he took him further in, the tip hitting the back of his throat. "Oh fuck, Bucky. That feels so good." The brunet moaned again in response and Steve’s hips lifted automatically.

Bucky bobbed his mouth up and down on Steve, his tongue swirling and his teeth raking lightly against his shaft with each movement. 

"Fuck. That's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, my cock sliding in and out of that beautiful mouth of yours."

The feeling was so intense, the realization of his dreams and reality coming together, that he didn't know how long he could last. He moved slightly, his finger lightly rubbing a spot just below Steve’s balls, and a long hiss escaped the blond’s clenched teeth. He almost wanted to stop him, but the feeling was so incredible Steve was helpless to move.

Steve’s fingers ran through his hair and across his face and jaw. Bucky closed his eyes and increased the suction, bringing Steve closer and closer to the edge. The unreal combination of his mouth on Steve’s dick and his finger pressing against the blond was the most intense sensation he'd ever experienced. The brunet increased the pressure of his fingers and it sent Steve’s climax crashing through him. "Fuck Bucky! Oh fuck, fuck." Now that he was saying his name, it was so hard to stop.

Bucky kept his mouth on his cock and continued to suck as the most powerful climax of his life subsided.

"What the fuck was that?" Steve gasped. The younger man let his dick slip from his mouth and peered at Steve with a satisfied smirk. Holy shit, this man never ceased to amaze him. "Get up here." Steve ordered.

Sitting up, Steve pulled him into his lap, wrapping his legs around his hips. Their naked chests pressed together, Steve took his face in his hands, looking into his icy eyes. "That is the best wake-up call I've ever gotten." Bucky chuckled lightly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Pulling his mouth to Steve’s own, he kissed the brunet deeply, relishing in every inch of his naked skin. Steve’s hands ran down his arms and across his torso. His head fell back and to the side, allowing Steve to kiss and nibble up and down his neck, feeling himself harden again. Bucky’s hips rocked against him and he looked up at Steve mischievously.

"Didn't you say something about making sure I couldn't walk tomorrow?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve in challenge and he groaned. Steve reached off the bed and into his suitcase on the floor to grab the necessary items. 

"You are such a bad boy," the blond said against his lips. Steve reached around and brought two slicked fingers to Bucky’s entrance. He was still loose enough from just a few hours ago and Steve was able to add a third finger within a few moments. He retracted his fingers and rolled a condom on. Reaching down the blond placed his cock at the younger man’s entrance and lifted him slightly. "But, you're right. A promise is a promise."

In one smooth motion, Steve was deep inside him again, and they both moaned at the sensation. Bucky’s forehead fell to Steve’s shoulder and he rocked his hips forward slightly taking Steve further inside.

He was hot and wet and Steve was once again amazed at how well they fit together. His arms wrapped around the blond’s shoulders and he gripped Bucky’s hips, guiding him up and down his cock. He'd never been in this position before; it felt so intimate and yet so right for them. They certainly weren't close emotionally, but there was never anyone Steve was closer to physically than Bucky.

Closing his eyes Steve tried to concentrate on every sensation as it hit his. The brunet’s chest heaving and brushing against Steve’s chest, the heat of him wrapped around Steve; all of it seemed to combine to make time standstill. He didn't know how long they stayed like that, rocking against the other, kissing and touching, but slowly the room began to lighten.

The pleasure built-in waves until Steve was at the breaking point. Bucky leaned back slightly, changing the angle of the blond’s thrusts, and moaned loudly. "Steve, I'm almost there." His voice was low and full of need, and Steve let his hand slide down his body to wrap his hand around the younger man’s neglected erection. He stroked him slowly at first but sped up to be in time with his thrusts after a moment.

The sight before him was breathtaking. His head was tossed back in ecstasy, and his brown hair a tangled mess. 

Steve couldn't believe that this was the same man that he would have said he hated a little over a month ago. The blond knew they had a long way to go, but somewhere along the way, the lines had become blurred. He knew now it wasn't exactly Bucky he hated, but rather the feelings that he evoked within him. If he could learn to control them, maybe they could find a way to continue this. They would have to keep it between them and of course, it would be strictly physical, but for the first time, Steve saw that it might be possible.

With each swivel of his hips, the pressure was beginning to build again. Steve gripped him tighter, fearing briefly that he would leave bruises, and quickened his thrusts. He groaned and writhed above Steve and just when he thought he couldn't hold out anymore, Bucky called his name and he felt him begin to spasm powerfully around his dick as he spilled over Steve’s fist. The intensity of his climax brought on Steve’s own, and he came into Bucky for the second time that night.

Bucky collapsed against him and he lowered them both to the bed. They were panting and utterly exhausted, and yet Steve couldn't help the small smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.

He pulled Bucky to him; his back pressed against the blond’s chest and wrapped his arms around the younger man, entangling their legs. He mumbled something Steve couldn't make out but was asleep before he could ask him about it.

The dynamics had shifted tonight, and Steve’s last thought as his eyes closed was that there would be plenty of time to talk tomorrow. But as the early morning sunlight began to creep under the dark curtain, he realized with an uneasy feeling, that tomorrow was already here.


	11. Nu Regret Nimic

Consciousness fluttered on the edge of his sleep-filled mind, and he tried to force it away. Bucky didn't want to wake up. He was warm and comfortable and content. God, this was the best hotel bed ever. Vague visions of his dream passed behind his closed eyes as the brunet snuggled into the warmest, best-smelling blanket he’d ever slept in. It snuggled back.

Something warm pressed against Bucky, and his eyes fluttered open to see a head of familiar messy blond hair inches from his face. A hundred images flashed through his mind in that second as the reality of last night came crashing down on Bucky’s muddled brain. Holy shit. It was real.

His heart rate quickened as he lifted his head slightly to see the beautiful man wrapped around Bucky. Steve’s head lay on Bucky’s chest, his perfect mouth parted slightly, causing wisps of warm breath to fan across the younger man’s bare chest. His long body lay flush along Bucky’s, their legs tangled together and his strong arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s torso.

Steve stayed.

The intimacy of their position hit with a crushing force that actually took his breath away. The flood of emotions overwhelmed him, causing his stomach to turn and his chest to ache. Steve didn't just stay, he clung to Bucky.

Never in all his life had Bucky been in such a powerful moment, and he struggled to find his breath and not panic. He was utterly aware of each inch of their touching bodies. He felt Steve’s warm breath float over his skin and the powerful thump of his heartbeat against Bucky’s chest. The brunet’s fingers burned to run along his skin. His lips ached to press against his blond hair. It was too much. He was too much.

Something changed last night and Bucky wasn't sure he was ready to deal with it. He didn't know what that change entailed, but it was there. In every move, every touch, every word, and every kiss; they had been one. He trembled slightly at that thought. No man had ever made Bucky feel that way, as if his body were made to fit the blond’s.

Bucky had been with other men, but nothing like this. He felt as if he were being carried away by a force of nature, completely unable to change the course. It was terrifying, yet somehow it felt right, and he wasn't sure if he could fight it anymore.

Closing his eyes tightly, Bucky tried to quell the sense of panic that was building. He didn't regret what happened. It was intense and beautiful, but he needed a few minutes by himself before he could face Steve.

Placing one hand into his blond hair and the other on his back, Bucky managed to roll him off himself slightly. He began to stir and the brunet froze, holding him close and silently willing him to go back to sleep. He mumbled Bucky’s name before his breathing evened out again, and he slipped out from underneath Steve. The brunet smiled slightly despite himself. Was he dreaming about Bucky? Did he know Bucky was still here?

He watched Steve sleep for a moment, the panic receding somewhat, and was once again struck by just how beautiful he was. Still in sleep, his features were tranquil and peaceful, and so very different from any expression he ever wore around Bucky. His hair was a mess, no doubt from the brunet’s hands running through it all night. A soft blond wave had fallen down across his forehead, and Bucky’s fingers longed to brush it back. Long lashes, perfect cheekbones, full pouty lips, and a stubble-covered jaw completed the most gorgeous face Bucky had ever seen on a man.

His body was lean and muscular with a sprinkling of hair that ran from his chest and dipped below the tangled white sheet that sat across his narrow hips. Against Bucky’s will, his body responded instantly to the man that lay before him. Bucky needed to get away.

Slipping out of the bed quietly, he headed to the safety of the bathroom. A path of wet, discarded clothing littered the perfect white carpet, forming a trail that led from the bathroom to the bed.

Stepping over them, he continued walking until he felt the cool marble floor beneath his feet.

Closing the door with the softest click, Bucky flipped on the light and peered at his naked reflection in the mirror. Wow. Freshly fucked. That was definitely how he looked.

Leaning in, he examined the barely noticeable red bites that were scattered along his neck, shoulders, pecs, and stomach. Glancing down, his nipples hardened as he recalled the feeling of the blond’s unshaven face brushing along his skin.

His hair was a wild and tangled mess, and he bit his lip as he remembered Steve’s hands twisted in it. The way he pulled Bucky first into his kiss, and then onto his cock… Not helping.

It was time to think. What did Bucky want? Honestly, he had no idea. Could he go back to the way things were?

Absolutely not. He'd only been away from Steve for a few minutes, and Bucky could already feel the pull from the other side of the door. As scary as it was, the brunet wanted to go back to him.

Another look in the mirror reminded Bucky that there were a few things he needed to take care of first.

Reaching for his shampoo and conditioner in his overnight bag, Bucky opened the shower door and stopped, his heart dropping into his stomach. Oh shit. Tossed in a wet, expensive pile in the corner of the shower were his clothes from the previous day. "Damnit!"

Bending over, Bucky retrieved all the clothing and held it out in front of himself. Although he had certainly not complained when Steve ripped it off him last night, he couldn't keep from cringing when he remembered what he had paid for all of it. Or all the other things Steve had ruined for that matter.

Bucky was seriously considering starting a tab.

Laying it out on the counter, he paused, recalling the unused Armani account he'd opened for Bucky.

He'd briefly considered using it to teach Steve a lesson, perhaps going on an orgasm-inducing shopping spree, but had quickly discarded the thought. Bucky didn't even want to imagine the implications of doing that.

Inwardly cursing him, Bucky hung it all on the towel rack to dry and turned to start the shower.

Letting the water run through his hands, he considered how last night had started. Jealousy was not something he was used to feeling. Yet this was the second time those feelings had pushed Bucky to do something rash.

At least they were finally being completely honest with each other. For the first time since this had begun, Bucky felt like he had a clearer picture of who Steve was. In the heat of the moment, he'd revealed things that he would have rather kept private, but it felt good to finally say them out loud.

The biggest surprise had been Steve’s reaction. He had felt scared and vulnerable, no longer able to handle battling emotions swirling inside himself. Yet he'd soothed Bucky, reluctantly telling him what he needed to hear. He wanted Bucky. Only Bucky. As confused as his words left the brunet, he also felt comforted.

But where did they go from here? A feeling of unease settled in his stomach as he considered his options. While he could admit that he was beginning to see the blond in a different light, it didn't change who Steve was, or rather, who he had been. There were moments when Bucky thought he saw glimpses of another, different Steve Rogers, but they would disappear just as quickly.

Bucky frowned, more confused than ever and still no closer to an answer, and stepped under the warm spray. Closing his eyes, he sighed, feeling a bit of the tension slip from his body. His mind, however, wasn't so easy to calm. No matter what he did, he couldn't see how this could work. They couldn't go back, but he didn't see how this could move forward either. The sex was… indescribable. Beyond anything, he'd ever even imagined. But as strong as their physical connection was, could Bucky live with just that?

Just thinking back to the way it had been last night caused his stomach to flutter. The things they said, the things they did. Even if their heads couldn't make sense of what was between them, their bodies knew.

From the first kiss, Bucky had known he was lost. The feel of his lips on his own, his hands on the brunet’s skin, was all it took for his will to crumble. Knowing that the blond had felt as powerless to control himself as Bucky had been, that Steve couldn't walk away either had been his undoing.

His kiss had been rough and frantic, each touch mirroring Bucky’s own desperation. He never held back, always treating the brunet as his equal, somehow knowing that's what he needed.

Then sometime during the night, it changed. Lines were crossed and walls were broken, and he didn't think they could ever be restored. He was not the asshole boss Bucky had grown accustomed to.

Something flickered and he could see the man others respected, the man Bucky had expected to meet ten months ago. The same raging passion that seemed to burn whenever they were together still consumed them, but there was something else too.

Gone were Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes. They were Steve and Bucky, and he couldn't believe how right and real it felt. Bucky had never felt physically closer to another person in his life. Steve had been tender and gentle, and they'd teased and just enjoyed each other for the first time. He had left Bucky feeling…worshiped.

Without realizing it, the brunet’s hand had drifted to his chest, where his fingers began to tease his tender nipple. Groaning quietly, he remembered the sounds as Steve came, the wicked things he whispered into Bucky’s ear, and the force of him thrusting in and out of him.

Bucky closed his eyes, feeling the hot water rain over his skin as his hand slid down his lean muscled stomach to his thickening cock.

Bucky gasped when a pair of strong arms encircled him and a large hand covered Bucky’s around the base of his dick. "How about if you let me help you with that?" he whispered huskily into the brunet’s ear. A loud sigh left his lips and Bucky leaned into him, letting his head fall back against Steve’s chest.

"Just what were you thinking about in here?" He placed a small kiss against Bucky’s wet hair and used his nose to tilt his head slightly, giving him access to the younger man’s neck.

"You," Bucky said, his voice breathy, husky. "Last night."

"Mmmmm." His soft moan vibrated against the brunet’s skin as he began moving their hands slowly, their joined fingers working along his shaft. "I was thinking about that too. Can you feel what you do to me?" He bent slightly and his erection slipped between Bucky’s legs. "Did I do this to you, Bucky?" He squeezed their hands lightly around Bucky’s, now fully erect, cock.

"Oh God, Steve," Bucky sighed quietly. He didn't know what felt better, their hands on his dick or the sound of his silky voice saying Bucky’s name.

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." His hips began to rock, causing his cock to slide back and forth against the brunet. "God, Bucky."

Bucky groaned as he positioned their hands. "Do you feel that? How hot and hard you are?" He stroked more firmly and the moment was so intense that the younger man swayed slightly. His free arm gripped Bucky across his torso, holding the brunet to him while his thumb grazed the underside of his nipple. "Does that feel good, baby? I fucking love touching of you."

His hand left Bucky’s and snaked around to glide the pad of his finger over Bucky’s entrance. He circled the ring of muscle for a moment, teasing. Bucky’s hand had stilled at the base of his cock as he gave all his attention to Steve’s ministrations. Steve then pushed a single finger in slowly, it was easy with the water and how Bucky was still slightly opened after the night before.

“Touch yourself for me.” Steve’s words were husky and low in Bucky’s ear and the brunet began to pump his fist slowly over his erection in response. The blond then began to pump in and out before adding a second finger and curling them to milk his prostate.

"Mmm...Yes, Steve…Oh fuck…that feels so good." Bucky’s voice was weak and breathless as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. The things this man did to Bucky left him wanton and unashamed. Bucky could never seem to get enough.

Their wet bodies slid easily against each other, and the brunet threw his head back against Steve’s shoulder, growling low through clenched teeth as his climax threatened to near. Lifting his free arm to Steve’s hair, Bucky turned his head and pulled him down into a deep kiss. He moaned into Bucky’s mouth and he knew the blond was enjoying this as much as Bucky was.

"Do you want to come, Bucky?"

"Fuck, yes," Bucky was becoming desperate, the pressure was building and he needed more. He groaned at the loss of his touch as he turned the younger man to face him, he pushed Bucky roughly against the cool marble wall and placed his hands over his head. "Don't move," Steve said sternly.

He began placing kisses down Bucky’s neck and across his shoulders, his rough beard brushing against his skin. Working down to his chest, Bucky inhaled sharply as his thumbs grazed his nipples, and Bucky’s eyes closed in pleasure.

Bucky felt his hot breath fan over his nipple as he spoke, causing it to harden even more. "Tell me you don't want me to stop." He took it into his mouth and the brunet bit his lip hard to keep from crying out. "Don't be stubborn, Bucky," he whispered against his skin as he moved to the other nipple. "Tell me you don't want me to stop, and I won't."

He began sucking again and then drew circles with his tongue around it, and Bucky couldn't hold back anymore. "Don't stop," Bucky whispered.

"What was that?" His lips moved to the brunet’s sternum and continued on a trail down to his abdominal muscles.

"I said don't stop." Bucky was frantic, his body aching to feel release. He'd brought Bucky to the edge only to pull back. He needed Steve, and right now he'd do anything, say anything Steve asked.

"Who does this to you, Bucky?"

"You do. Only you, Steve."

\---

Steve’s POV

Standing up, Steve kissed him slowly and whispered into his mouth, "Only me."

His hand slid down Bucky’s body and lifted his leg, bringing it up against him. Looking down at their bodies, Bucky couldn't stop the moan as he saw their hard cocks nestled between them, rubbing together as both men moved their hips to gain some friction. Steve’s eyes moved to scan up Bucky’s body.

He was so perfect.

Steve let his fingers trace across Bucky’s chest and down his abs again. He shuddered slightly as Steve moved across the hardened muscles to his hips, where he froze. Was that-was that a tattoo?

"What-?" Steve stopped, stunned. He could barely form the words. Pushing Bucky away slightly, he looked up to meet his icy blue eyes briefly before returning them to the mark. Right below his hip bone was a circle of elegant script written in Romanian. How the fuck had Steve missed that? Steve thought back briefly to all the times they'd been together. They'd always been rushed, or in the dark, or in a state of semi-undress. Bucky must have noticed Steve’s puzzled expression.

"It's a tattoo," Bucky said humorously.

"I know it's a tattoo, but-" the blond was having a difficult time thinking at this point. "How…what does…what does it say?" He couldn't believe he had a tattoo.

"Nu regret nimic."

Steve’s eyes flew to him, a wave of pure lust spreading across every inch of his body. "What did you say?"

He definitely smirked. "Nu regret nimic." He spoke each word slowly, emphasizing each and every syllable.

"Fuck. Say it again," Steve practically growled as he moved closer to Bucky, lips grazing his neck.

"Nu regret nimic. Do you like that, Steve?" and Steve pulled Bucky’s leg higher on his hip in response.

Steve nodded. "Say something else." the blond almost ordered huskily.

Bending slightly, his hands grasped Bucky’s ass and lifted him, allowing Bucky to wrap his legs around him. His fingers found Bucky’s entrance and he pushed two fingers inside again and began pumping them slowly.

He held Bucky tightly, pressed against the wall, his words low and forceful in Steve’s ear, "Ai fost făcut pentru mine." Steve couldn't wait anymore and he rolled his hips fully against Bucky.

"Fuck me, Steve." He didn't hesitate, and in one forceful and calculated push, he was buried inside of Bucky after retracting his fingers. Bucky groaned, the sound echoing off the marble.

"Bucky, Bucky," His voice was strained and gravelly as he began thrusting into the brunet. “Ai fost făcut pentru mine.” Kissing his brown hair gently he continued to murmur those words over and over in Bucky’s ear.

\---  
Bucky’s POV

His movements were smooth and forceful, each one causing Bucky to slide up and then down the slick wall. The brunet gasped into Steve’s mouth as the feeling threatened to overtake him.

"Oh fuck, Bucky…I can't…please…I won't last long." Hearing his voice so desperate and out of control only intensified Bucky’s need for him. Everything seemed to disappear, the sound of the shower, the cool feel of the marble against his back. The only thing at this moment was this beautiful man and the incredible things he was making Bucky feel.

Laying his head on Steve’s shoulder, Bucky closed his eyes, focusing on the delicious feeling beginning to spread throughout his body. Bucky was so close, teetering right on the edge. Steve’s thrusts were just the right angle to move smoothly over Bucky’s prostate, sending sparks of pleasure through him with each pass. Reaching between them, the brunet’s fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to stroke it slowly.

Tilting his head, he looked down at the younger man’s hand and swore. "Oh fuck," His voice was desperate, his breath coming out in deep pants. "Touch yourself, baby. Oh Bucky, just like that. Let me see you." His words were all Bucky needed, and with one last pass of his hand, he felt him spill over his fist.

Bucky came hard, clenching around him. Apparently Steve was on the edge too, because he groaned throatily, his body seizing as he came inside Bucky. The younger man’s whole body shook in the aftermath, tiny tremors continuing even as his orgasm faded. He clung to the blond as he stilled, his body sinking against his own. He kissed Bucky’s shoulder and his neck before placing a single kiss to his lips. Their eyes met briefly, and then Steve let Bucky slide down his body.

Gripping the shower wall for support, Steve bent slightly, trying to catch his breath. "Holy shit," he exhaled in a heavy breath.

Bucky nodded. He couldn't agree more. Standing opposite each other, the spray from the shower cascading between them, he couldn't look away. He could feel every thought he ever had that the next time would be less powerful, that their connection would somehow be broken, melt away. It never had been and never would be. It would always be stronger and better than the last. As Bucky gazed at him, it became clear to him that when this ended, it would hurt.

Fear gripped his heart and the panic from earlier returned, bringing an uncomfortable silence with it.

"We probably need to get ready," Bucky said abruptly, trying to ease the tension.

"Okay." He looked confused for a moment before speaking. "I don't have any clothes in here. I don't even know where my room is." Bucky fought a blush as he remembered how quickly everything had happened last night.

"Right, um… I'll… just use your key and go get you something." Bucky tried to avoid his eyes, the situation becoming more and more awkward by the moment.

"Okay. I'll just let you finish up in here." He continued to look at the brunet for a moment before nodding his head and stepping out of the shower. Bucky tried not to watch Steve as he pulled a towel from the rack and wrapped it around himself, but of course, he failed.

As soon as he shut the door, Bucky slumped against the shower wall. What the hell was he doing? Wait, did they just bareback? Did Steve actually come inside him? Get a hold of yourself, Bucky! Okay, he just needed to put some of the boundaries back in place. The first being, no more calling him Steve. Bucky’s stomach fluttered slightly as he thought of Steve’s name and he realized that might be harder than he thought. Fucking traitor body.

Bucky finished up quickly and wrapped a towel around himself, wishing that he would have had the sense to bring some clothing in the bathroom with him. With a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.

Steve was sitting on the bed, and his eyes rose to meet Bucky’s as he entered the room.

"I just need…" he trailed off, motioning to his bag. He nodded but made no move to speak. The brunet was usually never self-conscious about his body. But standing here in nothing but a towel, knowing that Steve was watching him, left him feeling uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

Grabbing a few things, Bucky rushed by him, not stopping till he was safely behind the bathroom door. He dressed quicker than he thought possible.

Grabbing the key cards from the counter, he returned to the bedroom.

Steve hadn't moved. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his thighs, he appeared lost in thought. What was he thinking? All morning Bucky had been a nervous wreck, his emotions shifting wildly from one extreme to the other; but the blond seemed so…calm. So sure. But what was he sure of?

What had Steve decided?

"Do you have anything in particular you want me to bring you?"

Lifting his head, Steve looked slightly surprised, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. Could this get any more awkward? "Um…I have a speech to give today right?" Bucky nodded, relieved at the realization that he wouldn't have to be next to him the entire day. "Whatever you pick will be fine."

"Sure…I'll be back." Spinning quickly, Bucky all but sprinted out of the room, stopping to breathe only after he'd closed the door behind himself. He was so fucked.

It only took him a second to locate Steve’s room; it was on the same floor and just a few doors down from his own. His bags were already there, and Bucky paused briefly realizing he would have to go through Steve’s luggage.

Lifting the largest one and placing it on the bed, he opened it. Steve’s scent hit him and almost knocked Bucky off his feet. Bucky righted himself and began fingering through the neatly packed items. Everything about Steve was so neat and organized, and it made Bucky wonder what his home looked like.

He'd never thought about it much, but he suddenly wondered if he would ever see it if he would ever see his bed. Bucky paused as he realized that he wanted to. Would Steve want him to?

It struck Bucky that he was stalling and he continued searching through Steve’s clothes before finally settling on a beautiful charcoal grey Dior suit, white dress shirt, silk black tie, socks, and shoes.

Putting everything back where it belonged, Bucky gathered up his clothing and headed for his room. He was unable to stifle his nervous laughter as he walked down the hall and shook his head from the sheer absurdity of the situation. Thankfully, he’d managed to compose himself somewhat as he reached his door. Placing his key in the card slot, he'd made it two steps inside before Bucky froze.

Steve stood in front of the open window, awash in the morning sunlight. Each beautiful line of his chiseled form was accentuated in perfect detail by the shadows cast across his body. The towel hung indecently low on his hips.

"See something you like?" Bucky’s attention was reluctantly brought back to his face at the amused sound of his voice. Embarrassed that he had basically been caught ogling him, Bucky stammered as he tried to find an intelligent response.

"I, uh…" The brunet’s eyes drifted back down to his waist as he tried to clear his head. This was not going well.

"I said, see something you like?" He crossed the room, stopping just in front of the younger man, a satisfied smirk on his beautiful cocky face.

"What? Um, no," Bucky lied, quickly trying to come up with something. "I was just, thinking about something."

"And what exactly where you thinking about?" His hand reached out, fingers tracing lightly along Bucky’s sharp jaw. Just that simple touch caused his stomach to jump.

"That we have a schedule to keep."

He moved a step closer. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're self-absorbed?" Bucky taunted, meeting his gaze. Steve quirked an eyebrow and watched him for a moment before taking his clothing from his hands.

"Is that so?" Bucky didn't miss the teasing tone of his voice. Backing up he placed the items on the bed and looked at the brunet. Before he could move, the blond pulled the towel from his hips and tossed it to the bed. Sweet Mother of God. If there was a finer specimen of man on this earth, Bucky would pay big money to see it.

Picking up his dress shirt, he slid his arms into it and stopped, looking at Bucky. "Didn't you just say we had a schedule to keep?" Steve questioned, eyeing him humorously. "Unless of course, you see something you like."

Son of a- Bucky narrowed his eyes, and turned quickly, returning to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

As he brushed his teeth, Bucky couldn't get past the unsettling feeling that Steve wanted to say something. What would Steve tell him? What would Bucky find when he opened the door? An unfamiliar ache began to build in his chest and he didn't understand it. Was he worried Steve would want to leave or stay?

Once he was all ready, Bucky turned to step into the bedroom, he saw the blond was dressed and waiting. He stood with his back to Bucky, looking out the large window. Hearing him enter Steve turned, a pensive expression on his face.

Never leaving Bucky’s eyes, he moved towards him, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Steve placed his warm hands on the brunet’s face and looked at him, an emotion in his eyes Bucky had never seen before.

"I don't want to walk out that door, and lose what we found in this room."

His simple words rocked Bucky. Steve wasn't declaring, he wasn't promising, yet he said everything Bucky didn't know he felt.

Bucky tried to speak but knew there weren't any words that could express the thoughts and feelings running through him. Letting out a shaky breath Bucky brought his hands to Steve’s chest and nodded.

Smiling softly, Steve nodded. "We can talk later. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly. Not able to keep from smiling in return.


	12. Poolside

With a contented sigh, Steve pressed his face deeper into the pillow. It smelled so fucking good. It was a smell he knew, a smell he loved. It used to be a smell that tortured him; he had tried to block it out, move away. Now, Steve breathed it in greedily, searched it out, and memorized it. He let it wash over him. It was Bucky.

He reached out, searching for warm skin, but found nothing but tangled sheets. Lifting his head, he opened an eye and glared at the empty spot next to himself. Where was Bucky?

Pushing up off his stomach, Steve rolled over and glanced around the room. Bucky's room. This was the second time Steve had awoken here, and it was the second time Steve had been alone. He sat up and smiled at the scene in front of him. The curtains were billowing in the light breeze and torn, haphazardly discarded clothing lay strewn across the floor and furniture. They'd obviously been in a hurry.

He'd opened his eyes yesterday morning and been confused. Confused about where he was, how he had gotten there, and why he had been naked. The sheets had smelled like Bucky and it had only fueled the dream Steve was having. As the sound of the shower brought Steve out of sleep, it had only taken him a minute to realize it wasn't a dream.

When Bucky had picked Steve up from the airport, he never would have imagined how the night would end. It had been the most incredible night he had ever spent with anyone, until last night that is.

Each time was better than the time before. Being with Bucky was the easiest thing in the world. Steve didn't need to think; his body took over for him and they fit together like they were made to move that way. It had never been like that before, ever.

Feeling that familiar pull to find him, Steve stood up and retrieved his boxers from the chair next to the bed. Steve had never brought any extra clothing with him, choosing instead to keep his bags in his own room.

To bring them here would require some sort of thought or admittance of what was going on, something they had yet to do. Steve knew they needed to talk about this, Steve had even said as much, but every time the opportunity presented itself, he couldn't do it. If he didn't know how he felt about this, how could he explain it to Bucky?

Moving quietly towards the open French door, Steve stopped at the sight before him. Bucky stood on the private balcony, looking down at the city below, seemingly lost in thought. He looked absolutely beautiful. It was beginning to rain, currently amounting to only a light mist. Tiny drops had gathered in Bucky's dark hair, catching errant rays of sunlight that managed to make their way through the building clouds. Steve’s eyes traveled over the length of Bucky’s body. He was shirtless, his boxers the only clothing on his body.

When the brunet tilted his head slightly, Steve saw that he looked troubled and the blond wondered what Bucky was thinking about. Was Bucky regretting what had happened? Steve had found himself going over and over the different ways this could play out until he had been forced to put it out of his mind. He didn't want to focus on any of that now. They had so little time left to be together this way. They were going home tomorrow, and eventually, this little bubble of intimacy they'd created would burst. Steve didn't want to waste a moment of that time thinking of what was to come.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Steve opened the door and stepped out. If Bucky heard him, he didn't react. The air was heavy and damp, the smell of wet pavement rising up to meet him. The breeze was cool, but not at all unpleasant against Steve's bare skin. Walking up behind him, Steve startled the younger man slightly as he slid his arms around Bucky’s waist. Nothing was said as Bucky leaned back against Steve's chest and he buried his face into Bucky's hair, placing soft kisses along the back of his neck.

"You weren't there," Steve whispered softly against his ear.

"I know." Bucky didn't offer anything else, and Steve didn't ask. The brunet’s head tilted to the side, and Steve's lips moved down along his shoulder. The blond’s hand slipped up Bucky's ribs and his thumb grazing over his hardened nipple.

"You're so beautiful," Steve said as his hand continued to glide along Bucky’s exposed torso, showing his appreciation of the man before him. Bucky's head fell to his shoulder and a soft sigh escaped the brunet’s lips as Steve pulled him closer.

"You make me feel that way," Bucky said quietly. His words were simple, and yet the meaning behind them stilled Steve's exploration of his skin for a moment. What was the feeling those words evoked in him? Surprise? Pride? Steve wasn't sure, but warmth spread across his own skin and Steve knew he wanted to be the one to make Bucky's feel that way.

Minutes passed this way as they stood together, hidden from the world. His hands and mouth explored Bucky's body as he rocked back against the blond. Steve had never enjoyed this part of being with someone so much before. As much as there was to be said about the frantic rush for their bodies to come together, the past two days had also taught them to slow down. They'd explored every inch of each other, lingering for hours in the shower, staying up each night learning what the other liked. Steve had never gotten so little sleep in his life, and yet he had also never felt more exhilarated.

He knew exactly where Bucky liked to be touched, when Steve needed to ask and when Bucky wanted him to just take. Steve knew every spot that made the younger man sigh, knew that Bucky knew Steve thought his tattoo was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and that if Bucky spoke Romanian to Steve he'd come undone.

Bucky had discovered where to kiss to drive Steve insane, how Steve liked to be stroked and that he needed to hear his name when Bucky came. No one had ever seemed so eager to please Steve before, and no one had ever even come close.

The need to take this man was growing and Steve turned Bucky slowly to face him. Steve groaned softly as their bare chests met, and brought his hand up to thread into Bucky's slightly damp hair. Pulling Bucky to him, Steve brushed his mouth slowly against Bucky's, reveling in the silkiness and warmth of their lips together. He didn't deepen the kiss, enjoying the way Bucky sighed between his slightly parted lips and let Steve lead him. His eyes never left Bucky's as they shared this moment and Steve felt the electricity course between them, burning where their bodies touched. His hand slid down, until Steve cupped Bucky's ass, bringing him more fully against himself. Bucky's breath caught as he felt Steve's hardened cock press against his own, only two thin layers of fabric separating them.

"I need to feel you," Steve whispered into Bucky's mouth. "Let me."

"We have somewhere to be," Bucky protested quietly, and Steve knew he was right. "We can't sneak off today." Steve pouted slightly against his lips, teasing him.

"Please." Steve had never been like this before, so willing to toss aside his responsibilities to appease his desires. It was a fact that scared him, but just like so many other thoughts this week, Steve pushed it aside.

"Trust me, this won't take long." Steve’s mouth moved down the brunet’s neck and he smiled as Bucky laughed, feeling the vibration against his lips. Pride swelled inside of Steve as he realized that he was the one who had elicited that beautiful sound from him.

"Well, when you put it that way-" Steve cut off Bucky's words with his mouth as he picked Bucky up around the waist, and raced inside. Bucky laughed harder as Steve tossed them both on the bed and within minutes Steve was deep inside him. They were going to be late again.

\---

Tapping his pencil on the empty notepad in front of him, Steve couldn't take his eyes off the man sitting across the table.

They'd been sitting through a seminar on anticipating market changes for two hours and Steve hadn't heard a single word. Normally, this was a subject that he would have had no trouble focusing on. His notebook and head would be full of exciting ideas and new concepts he couldn't wait to explore.

Today, and every day now for that matter, the only thing that held any interest for Steve was Bucky. Bucky.

It still seemed strange to think Bucky's name let alone say it. They had yet to use their first names outside of Bucky's hotel room, a fact Steve knew was not lost on either of them. That room had become a sanctuary of sorts, the only place where they truly let themselves be together. Yesterday morning, Steve had seen the distance growing between them as they dressed and he couldn't let it happen. Without thinking it through, he had pulled Bucky to him and said the first words that came into his head.

"I don't want to walk out that door and lose what we found in this room." Steve hadn't known how true they were until he had said them aloud. Inside these walls, they could be together. No words were said in anger, no one tried to have the last word, and the outside world seemed to disappear. Steve didn't want to lose that.

He'd given himself permission to pursue this, thinking it would be easy to keep it separated from himself.

But within minutes of waking up, Steve had known that wasn't going to work. As much as he tried to deny it, he could feel himself becoming more and more attached to Bucky with every minute they spent together. The blond kept waiting for the moment he felt less drawn to him, knowing that sooner or later Bucky would say or do something that would finally make Steve's body listen to reason; it never came.

Looking back towards the speaker, Steve tried unsuccessfully once again to redirect his thoughts to something productive.

He saw Bucky's shift in his peripheral vision and instinctively, he turned to look at him again. Their eyes met across the table and every other sound in the room blended together, floating around Steve but never breaking into his consciousness.

A cell phone ringing somewhere behind Steve broke him from his trance, causing the blond to look away.

Quickly adjusting his position in the chair, Steve was shocked to see how much he had zoned in on the brunet.

Clearing his throat Steve looked around and stopped dead as a pair of unfamiliar eyes met his.

This stranger had no idea who they were, or that Bucky worked for Steve; he'd only glanced at them and quickly looked away. At that moment, every fear and ounce of guilt Steve had been suppressing for the last few weeks hit him. He was suddenly overwhelmed with disappointment in his behavior. He was risking his career, his reputation, his company, and all because he couldn't control himself around Bucky.

Without another glance in Bucky's direction, Steve turned in his chair towards the front, now giving the speaker his full attention. He needed to take a step back and gain some perspective, for both their sakes.

The session went on and he could sense Bucky's watching him, no doubt wondering about the sudden change in his demeanor. But it's not like he could explain his epiphany in the middle of a meeting so Steve forced himself to stare ahead. About an hour later, they released everyone for the day and they stood, making their way through the crowd and out of the large auditorium. The air between them was tense as they stepped out into the bright atrium level of the convention center.

Steve couldn't spend the night with Bucky again and as much as it killed him to do it, he needed to put some distance between them. Pulling the brunet to the side, Steve had just opened his mouth to speak when a group of people approached them.

"Bucky!" An attractive woman about Bucky's age grabbed him, pulling Bucky's into an excited hug.

"There you are! We're all going out tonight and want you to come." Steve watched as the indecision crossed the brunet’s face and Steve knew his dilemma; Bucky thought they'd be spending tonight the way they'd spent every night so far. And why wouldn't he? Steve had meant everything he had said, but out here in the bright light of the real world, Steve didn't know if that was possible anymore. The thought of what he was about to do made him sick.

"Mr. Barnes." Bucky's eyes flew to the blond, wide and hopeful, and it took everything Steve had to continue. "I have a dinner meeting tonight, so I'll just meet you in the morning before we head to the airport. You should go out and have fun with your friends." Bucky's face fell almost instantly and an unfamiliar pain clenched Steve's chest. He didn't want to be the one who made the younger man look that way. Steve wanted to make him laugh again, to see Bucky's smile.

"Oh…okay. Of course, Mr. Rogers. I'll just see you tomorrow then." Their eyes held for a moment and although Bucky seemed cool and collected, Steve could see the pain there. Every part of him was aching to reach out to the younger man, to take the hurt from his eyes. But Steve couldn't.

The group of people around Bucky immediately began making plans to drive Bucky's back to the hotel and wait while he dressed. Steve nodded to the brunet and quickly turned. He had to get away.

The short drive was quiet and lonely, with only Steve's jumbled thoughts to keep him company. He couldn't believe a day that had begun so perfectly had ended this way. He had known the real world would reappear eventually, and he couldn't avoid it forever. He just hadn't known it would affect him so strongly when it happened.

Reaching the hotel, Steve made his way through the large lobby to the elevator, lost in thought. He had fucked up, in more ways than he could even count; with work, his responsibilities and with Bucky. Steve had hurt him.

He couldn't believe how much that realization bothered him.

"Mr. Rogers! Hold the elevator!" Turning around Steve saw the group from the convention center walking quickly towards him with Bucky in the center. The blond stood back and held open the door and motioned for them to enter ahead of himself.

Entering only after they'd all stepped inside, his eyes met Bucky's across the elevator briefly before the brunet looked away.

"Bucky, what did you pack?" An attractive brunette in the group asked him. "There is this amazing club downtown that we're going to after dinner, and I know you brought something sexy."

"Um, I don't really feel like clubbing tonight," Bucky said to the girl and it didn't escape Steve's attention that Bucky was avoiding his eyes.

"What! Bucky, we always go! It's tradition…" numerous protests rang out from the group.

"I know, I know. But I'm really tired. I don't feel like dancing tonight." The brunette looked at Bucky strangely and Steve could see him growing uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"How can you be tired? You've gone back to your room early every night. I haven't seen you once outside of the workshops all week. What on earth have you been doing?" Steve had been trying to remain inconspicuous by looking down at the floor, but couldn't resist glancing at the brunet.

Their eyes met across the lift and Steve knew Bucky's thoughts mirrored his own. The blond imagined every moment of not sleeping, of holding the younger man in his arms and touching every inch of Bucky's skin. Even with the invisible wall Steve had put between them, he could still read Bucky.

The elevator dinged, saving Bucky from answering and they all filed out. The brunet didn't meet Steve's eyes again. Steve watched as they headed down the hall, a torrent of different conversations about tonight's plans surrounding them. Steve rubbed his chest as the unfamiliar ache returned and watched Bucky disappear behind the door.

Entering his own room, Steve ran his hands through his hair and looked around, cursing as his perfectly made bed mocked him. He hadn't been sleeping in it, but he had been pulling back the blankets to make it appear that it had been used. Just one more lie to add to the list.

Shaking his head, Steve threw his keys and wallet on the dresser and headed for the shower. As he stepped under the warm spray, he was instantly reminded that this was the first time he had even used his own bathroom. Unable or unwilling to resist, Steve thought back to the showers they had shared. No one had ever spoken another language to him besides Bucky, and the effect it had on him was insane. Bucky had taken to saying different things to Steve, knowing the blond didn't understand a word of it, but loving how he reacted. Sometimes the words were filthy, sometimes they were tender, but they always left them both trembling.

The blond dressed quickly and was heading for the door when he remembered a call he needed to make. Bucky had mentioned that their hotel was known for its amazing rooftop pool and was disappointed upon hearing it was closed. His mind had instantly jumped to an image of the two of them together in the warm water, and Steve had quickly offered to arrange for Bucky to use it.

He frowned as he realized that wouldn't happen now, but Steve could at least make sure Bucky would enjoy himself. It only took a quick phone call and a bit of monetary persuasion for the manager to agree to give Bucky unrestricted access. After a few minutes, things were arranged and he promised to send the gate keys up to Bucky's room.

Steve’s meeting was at a popular sushi restaurant near the hotel and as he offered his keys to the valet driver, he mentally prepared himself to deal with business. If he was going to endure the self-imposed torture of being away from the brunet, then Steve had damn well better make sure it was worth it.

He managed to put on a believable front, chiming in when necessary and impressing his colleagues with the upcoming ventures planned for Rogers Inc. Steve had even run into a former classmate from college who was attending the conference and considering a move to New York City. But despite all these things going on around him, Steve couldn't get Bucky out of his head. All Steve could think about was where Bucky was and what Bucky was doing.

Stepping into the darkened room at the end of the night, Steve removed his jacket and turned on the small lamp near the bed before sitting. The room was quiet and lonely, only amplifying the ache in his chest.

He peered at his phone and saw that Steve had two missed calls from Tony. Great. Normally, Steve would have already spoken to Sam and Tony several times this week, excitedly telling him of the latest trends and potential clients Steve had met. So far, he hadn't talked to either of them once. He had been afraid they would see right through him, and with a heavy sigh, he realized he was probably right.

It was after eleven and Steve wondered if Bucky was still with his friends. Maybe he had decided to go to a club after all. Was Bucky dancing with someone? Laughing and having fun? Was Bucky in his own room? Maybe he was lying there thinking about Steve the same way Steve was thinking about him.

He stood to make his way to his luggage when a small envelope next to the door caught his eye.

Curiously, he walked over to retrieve it. An access card. The hotel must have sent one to his room as well. An image of the pool the brunet had so excitedly described to him appeared in his head. Could Bucky still be up there swimming? Before Steve gave himself a moment to change his mind, he was out the door and in the elevator; pressing the button that would take him to the roof.

The elevator opened and the blond passed a large sign on an easel stating that the pool was closed. Steve quickly made his way across the elegant marble floor and placed his key in the slot on the wrought iron gate leading to the outdoor area.

The moment it opened, he was overcome with the sounds and smells of the Seattle night. The area before him was incredible. The entire roof had been transformed into an elegant patio. The floors were lined in warm teak; several massive trees set in flower-filled planters dotted the space, their branches swaying in the light breeze. Large white cabanas stretched along the edges of the roof and the only illumination came from rows of raised fire pits, casting everything in a warm, flickering glow.

Steve walked slowly towards the large pool and had a perfect view of the brunet swimming laps in the luminescent blue water. Steve felt slightly guilty for watching Bucky's without his knowledge and decided to take a seat in one of the large chaises set under the cabanas. Steve needed to talk to him and knew it couldn't wait.

The air was slightly cool, but the large heaters set along the patio's edge kept the chill away for the most part. From where he sat, Steve could see the younger man as he neared the opposite side, kicking off the edge to continue back. His eyes were split between the beauty of the man swimming in the low light of the pool, and the twinkling lights of the city around them.

Leaning back in the chair, Steve closed his eyes, letting the sounds and atmosphere calm him. Soft music played from the hidden speakers, and if he listened closely he could pick up the murmured sound of the traffic below. The warm breeze blew across his face, rustling his blond hair and Steve found himself thinking of how perfect a place this would be to spend an evening with Bucky. The thought hardly surprised Steve anymore.

The sound of rushing water caught Steve's ear and he sat up, his breath catching at the sight of Bucky climbing out of the pool. The water ran off Bucky's body, his wet skin glimmering in the flickering light of the fire.

His body seemed propelled forward and Steve quickly rose from his chair, grabbing a thick white towel from a stack near the cabana.

Clearing his throat to alert Bucky to his presence, Steve was met with a somber expression. Bucky seemed surprised to see him, but there wasn't any intense emotion visible. His chest tightened again as a brief memory of Bucky's carefree laughter from this morning contrasted with the unattached look the brunet wore now.

He offered him the towel and watched as Bucky looked at it, waiting a moment before he reached out and took it.

"Thanks," Bucky said, meeting Steve's eyes again.

"I need to talk to you," Steve started, a strange sense of dread filling him. What if Steve was too late? What if Bucky had grown tired of Steve's indecision?

"Really? About what?" Bucky's voice was flat and held a trace of annoyance as he walked past the blond towards the cabanas. He picked up a bottle of water Bucky had on the table and took a long drink. Steve turned to follow him, still debating what it was that he wanted to say.

"About today. About this."

"You don't owe me anything." Bucky's voice was quiet but it echoed louder in Steve's ears than if he would have screamed it. How could Bucky think that? Did Bucky really think he didn't care for him? He watched the pain flicker across Bucky's face and Steve suddenly saw all the mistakes he had made. Steve should have been honest, explained what he was going through. Instead, he had shut himself off from Bucky again. After all the things they'd been through this week, he had left without a reason, leaving the brunet to think the worst. Panic swept over Steve as he watched Bucky wrap the towel around his body and turn to leave…Steve couldn't let him go.

"Of course I owe you," Steve said, gripping his forearm lightly. "How could you not know that?" Bucky's eyes searched his own, and Steve saw fear there. Was it possible that he was feeling this too? That Bucky was as scared of losing him as Steve was of him?

"I should have told you…I saw someone watching us…and I just-" Steve ran his hands through his hair and turned away slightly, looking back at the pool. He had no idea how to word this and not hurt him.

"Oh." Bucky's voice was quiet and Steve turned to peer at him. His head was down and a look of resigned understanding on the brunet’s face.

"He wasn't even looking at us, really. I just looked up and it made me feel-"

"Like you were doing something wrong," Bucky finished for him. Bucky looked up finally and at that moment Steve really saw him. For the first time, he saw what this had to be doing to him. Steve couldn't believe what a phenomenal asshole he had been. In all the time they'd been together, he had never even once considered how Bucky had been dealing with this.

Moving to him, Steve placed his hand on Bucky's chin, tilting his face to look at him. "Bucky, I'm sorry." The brunet’s eyes closed briefly, and Steve wished so badly that he could know what he was thinking.

Sliding the tips of his fingers along Bucky's strong jaw, he moved his hand into his wet hair and pulled Bucky to him.

His free hand moved to Bucky's neck and slipped across his shoulder and down his arm, Steve's fingers gathering the wet drops as he went.

"I don't know if I can do this. You…" Bucky's voice trailed off quietly as his eyes closed and even though the words said one thing, the younger man leaned further into Steve's touch. Did Bucky mean tonight? Did Bucky mean them?

A pain grew inside Steve at the thought of Bucky ending this.

"I know what I want," Steve said, peering into those icy eyes. "I want you, but I don't know how to make it right. To have you and make it right. Tell me how, Bucky." Bucky's eyes searched his and the blond prayed he understood.

"I don't know," Bucky whispered. Their faces moved closer, his lips hovering over Steve’s, but never touching. "But I want it too." The last words were spoken so softly, Steve felt them more than heard them.

His hand moved to the small of Bucky's back, feeling the way it curved gently and the way Bucky's skin responded to his touch. His lips brushed against Steve’s and he almost smiled at how the need only grew. The anticipation of being with Bucky was almost as incredible as the actual thing. He loved that Bucky could tease him back, make Steve so hard with wanting that he would beg if Bucky asked.

He leaned in to close the distance between their mouths and Bucky pulled back slightly, looking into Steve's eyes.

"You know there are cameras up here, don't you?"

"Not tonight," Steve whispered. The brunet sighed deeply and pressed his lips against Steve’s. Steve groaned at the spark that shot through his body as their mouths finally met. Pulling away slightly, Bucky ran his tongue along the blond’s bottom lip. Steve leaned in, nipping lightly before taking it into his mouth. In an instant his body was on fire.

His hands tightened in Bucky's hair and he was rewarded as Bucky's hands skimmed up Steve's body, wrapping his fingers into the blond’s. Bucky pulled him roughly into him and Steve couldn't help the way his body rocked into the younger man’s. Bucky's skin was damp and wet against Steve's clothing.

"I want you," Bucky moaned as they pulled apart. The intensity and meaning of that statement sent a wave of lust over Steve. Seeing Bucky lose himself in wanting Steve was something he knew he would never tire of.

"You have me." Pulling back, Bucky searched Steve's eyes briefly; still twisting a piece of blond hair between his fingers. The flickering flames around them danced in the brunet’s eyes, casting his skin in a warm, amber glow. "You have me, Bucky."

Bucky pressed his mouth roughly to Steve’s own. The blond leaned into the kiss, letting Bucky take what he wanted. Steve let him lead and set the pace, losing himself in the feeling of giving up control.

His hands moved down Steve's chest and to his waist, pulling his shirt from his pants. He hardened even more at the thought of having Bucky out here. He wanted to see Bucky’s naked body in the moonlight; Steve wanted to feel the cool breeze across their skin. Bucky undid the buttons one by one until finally becoming impatient and ripping apart the final three. The buttons fell and bounced along the wooden floor and Steve smiled against the younger man’s lips, loving that Bucky could lose himself in wanting the blond as well.

He slipped his hands between Steve's open shirt and he shuddered as Bucky's wet chest came in contact with his own bare skin.

"You're so perfect," Steve said between kisses.

"So are you." Steve couldn't help but smile at Bucky's words. It occurred to Steve that he had never felt so many different emotions during sex before. He had never felt so connected to a person that he was laid bare, feeling so open that he allowed each emotion to come to the surface.

His lips left Steve’s and Bucky kissed along the blond’s jaw and up to his ear, causing his eyes to roll back into his head and a low feral growl to escape Steve's chest. Steve rolled Bucky's nipples between his fingers and watched the way they responded, growing harder under his touch. Bucky's eyes closed and his head fell to the side, as the blond touched and explored the soft skin.

Bringing Steve's mouth to him, he lost himself in the sensation of the brunet’s warm skin against his lips and the feel of his firm nipple against his tongue. His hands threaded roughly in Steve's hair, guiding him to where he wanted him most.

He felt his shirt being slipped from his shoulders and Steve paused, allowing it to fall to the ground. Placing Bucky's hands on either side of his own face, Bucky pulled Steve's mouth to his, his tongue slipping quickly inside.

He pushed him back, stopping only when Steve's legs met the chaise behind him. He sank into the plush cushions, groaning low in his throat as Bucky straddled his lap.

The back of the chair was reclined slightly, giving Steve the perfect vantage point to watch him, and Steve fought to keep his eyes from closing as Bucky's warm mouth trailed kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Steve watched as the younger man’s hands moved in unison across Steve's chest and further down, stopping to release his belt. Bucky's fingers grazed Steve's straining cock through the fabric of his pants, and Steve gasped; his hips lifting involuntarily to meet him. He felt Bucky's laugh against his chest and raised his head to see him.

His tongue darted out to encircle Steve's nipple, and Steve gasped at both the sight and the feeling that jolted through him.

His head fell back against the cushion, his hands tangling into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, giving himself over to the intense feelings coursing through his body. He reacted instantly to Bucky's every touch, his muscles clenching and his breath catching as Bucky explored. Steve felt the brunet tug on his pants and Steve lifted his hips slightly, letting Bucky pull them and his boxers down his body. Steve kicked them off, letting them fall to the ground and groaning as the cool air swept across his throbbing dick.

Kissing his way back up Steve's body, the brunet traced his tongue along the ridges and dips of Steve’s abdominal muscles. His breath caught as those cool blue eyes looked at him, his tongue moving tantalizingly lower. "Oh fuck, baby." Steve’s voice was strained and hoarse and it took all his willpower not to lead Bucky's hot mouth to his aching cock.

Pulling the brunet up his body, he brought Bucky's lips to his, his hands eagerly running up and down Bucky's sides.

The backs of Steve's fingers skimmed along his chest and teasingly close to his nipples, Steve almost smirked against Bucky's lips as he felt a shiver run through the brunet.

His hands continued on a path down Bucky's body, stopping on his hips. His fingers brushed the soft flesh before tugging on the waistband to Bucky's suit. Bucky moved to rid the clothing from his body before returning to his previous position.

Their eyes met and the moment was so surreal, Steve wanted to lock it away in his mind forever. His hands rested on Bucky's thighs, Steve's thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. Slowly the blond sat up, their faces only inches apart. He watched Steve as he closed the distance between them and softly placed his lips against Bucky's. Leaning into him, Bucky deepened the kiss and brought his hands up to Steve's neck.

His body rocked against Steve’s instinctively and he couldn't suppress the moan as Bucky's own erection pushed along Steve's cock. Reaching between them, Bucky wrapped his warm hand around Steve and a low moan escaped the blond’s lips.

"Lay back, Steve" He obeyed and laid back down, as Steve brought his hands to rest on Bucky's hips. Bucky brought two of his fingers up to his mouth and suckled on them. After a moment he raised his body and reach behind himself to tease his entrance. His eyes slipped closed and his mouth went slack with a sigh and Steve knew he had pushed into himself. Steve desperately wanted to open Bucky up, but he also appreciated the view as he had never watched the brunet open himself.

It wasn’t long before Steve knew Bucky was ready. Knowing what Steve wanted, the younger man lifted his body and positioned himself. With agonizing slowness, Bucky lowered himself onto Steve. Bucky's hands twisted into Steve's hair and Bucky sighed deeply as he began rocking his hips.

The blond groaned helplessly as Bucky shifted and Steve slid further inside of him.

"Fuck, Bucky. You look so beautiful." Bucky drew his hands down Steve's chest and along his abs, and Steve hissed at the delicious pleasure. Slowly, the brunet adjusted his position and he began rocking his hips, pushing off Steve's body for leverage. Bucky's movements were slow and timed perfectly to the rhythmic beat floating from the speakers. Bucky placed his palms behind him, resting on Steve's thighs and let his head fall back. Steve had never felt anything like it, each swivel of the younger man’s hips sent another surge of pleasure through him and he was struggling to find control.

Steve watched in awe as Bucky moved himself on him, the way his hips rolled and swiveled to the music.

His hands moved to slide up and down Bucky's legs as his eyes roamed the body before him, stopping on where they were connected. It was too much, seeing him, feeling him, the emotions swirling inside of himself.

Steve let his head fall back; his eyes closed tight and tried to focus on something besides the friction of his cock inside of the brunet. Steve felt the breeze cool his damp skin, the crackling sound of the fire just outside the cabana, the distant hum of the traffic below, the way Steve's name fell softly from Bucky's lips.

A moment of clarity began to dawn, that this man had somehow managed to become the focus of Steve's entire universe. Without Bucky, Steve didn't know how he could exist. Bucky broke through the walls he had built, and he didn't want them back up. Steve wanted to let the younger man in, to keep Bucky with him, to love him. An emotion so powerful gripped Steve's chest it took his breath away. Steve was falling in love with Bucky.

Suddenly, Steve needed to hold him, to wrap himself around Bucky and prove that this was real. Steve sat and pulled Bucky to him. The blond wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and held him, burying his face against his chest. Bucky was here.

"Steve," Bucky said softly, wrapping himself around the blond.

"Oh God, Bucky," Steve whispered, his voice desperate against Bucky's skin. "I need you."

He pulled the younger man down more firmly against himself and lifted his hips to meet him. Bringing his hand to cup Bucky's face, Steve kissed him deeply, loving the way Bucky moaned into his mouth. His movements were becoming more frantic and Steve reached between them, stroking his neglected cock.

He arched against Steve and gasped as he pleasured his cock. "Say something, Bucky." Bringing his mouth to the blond's ear, Bucky whispered. "Sunt a ta,’' his head fell to the side and he groaned as Bucky’s muscles began to tighten around him.

"Say it again."

"Sunt a ta, Steve," Bucky repeated the words over and over. The pressure built inside himself, teetering, ready to explode. Bucky cried out as his body fell apart in Steve's arms and he felt his own climax become triggered from Bucky tightening around him. Steve emptied himself inside him, his body shaking and clinging to Bucky like an anchor.

With Steve's eyes closed, his cheek against Bucky's chest, he felt the brunet’s heartbeat against his ear. Steve focused on it, letting it bring him down from the most intense experience of his life. Moments passed and a soft sob brought Steve from his thoughts. Looking up, Bucky's eyes were closed, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

"Bucky, baby what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" The gripping fear choked Steve's voice as he wiped the younger man’s tears and kissed his eyes. Shaking Bucky's head he looked at Steve, a soft smile on his face. Without words Steve understood and pulled Bucky to himself, laying them both down along the chaise. From the table next to them Steve grabbed a thick cotton robe and placed it over them. The night had cooled and they trembled slightly but didn't move to leave.

Closing his eyes, Steve focused on Bucky's soft breathing and the way his body felt against his own. The ache in Steve's chest returned as he realized how far they'd come. He could barely believe he used to think he could live without Bucky - that Steve could somehow deny the pull the brunet had on him. But their bodies knew what their heads had been trying to fight. Steve realized there was no going back for him. Steve was falling and he didn't know how to stop it.

Rubbing his thumb delicately along the brunet’s cheekbone, Bucky looked up at Steve and he wondered if he felt it too. Steve leaned in to kiss him softly, enjoying the soft sigh that escaped his parted lips. Tomorrow they would get on a plane and head back to reality. Steve was terrified of what that meant but as the brunet took his hand, kissing it softly before entwining their fingers, Steve realized it didn't matter. He had passed the point of no return and whether Bucky wanted Steve or not, Steve was Bucky's.

"Sunt a ta."


	13. Sunt A Ta

Bucky kicked smoothly off the edge of the pool, his body gliding through the lower depths of the dimly lit water. He swam harder, pushing his body as far as it would take him, hoping the ache in his overworked muscles would be enough to distract him from the constant ache the brunet felt in his chest. Bucky needed to feel this. Bucky needed the physical exertion to drive him into a dreamless sleep tonight. Bucky needed to know that he would return to his room too exhausted to focus on the fact that he would be alone, that he had opened his heart and finally acknowledged his feelings for Steve, only to have it thrown back.  
Repeating the process on the other side, Bucky plunged deeper, hoping to drown every bit of hurt he felt at Steve’s rejection. Everything had been so perfect, and he was still struggling to accept that the blond had essentially pulled away. Bucky didn't know what had happened. One minute they were happy, as happy as they could have been given the situation, and the next…Steve was gone.

When they'd left their meeting, the eyes that looked back at Bucky were not the soft, kind eyes he had come to know this week. Steve was cold and distant as he told the brunet of the plans that would take up his evening.

He had done his best to keep his surprise and hurt hidden, but on the inside, Bucky was struggling. What had changed? What had Bucky done? This hurt, insecure person was not the man Bucky prided himself on being. He knew then as Steve walked away from him that this was over.

Breaking the surface, Bucky moved to his back and let the warm water support his weight. He floated along the surface and attempted to let his mind clear for the moment as he watched the stars in the deep ebony sky above himself. It was so perfect up here, and Bucky found himself wishing once again that he had been able to share it with Steve.

For the first time since this morning, Bucky thought back to what had happened and how it had felt to wake up in his arms. Within seconds of waking, the brunet would feel stirrings of the unwelcome panic begin to settle over him again and Bucky would climb out of bed, needing some space before facing the other man in the bed. As Bucky slipped out and moved to the balcony he berated himself once more for not being brave enough to talk to Steve. Was Bucky afraid he wouldn't like what he had to say? Maybe it was Bucky. Maybe Bucky was afraid to really look at his own feelings. He knew that once he opened that door and finally acknowledged them, there would be no going back.

He'd been surprised to feel Steve’s arms around his torso, but not surprised at how right it felt. Everything with Steve felt right, and it only made the reality of their situation that much harder to accept. He had known going in that the blond was completely unavailable to him, and at the time it wasn't a problem. Bucky never wanted more from him. Bucky did now.

"You weren't there," he whispered between kisses along Bucky's neck.

"I know," he answered, wondering if the guilt he felt for being such a coward was betrayed by his voice.

There was no way Bucky could tell him why. Why every single morning this week he would creep out of bed, afraid to face Steve, afraid of what the younger man might see when he looked at Steve lying next to him. Bucky was grateful he didn't question, and Bucky melted into his touch. His hands fit perfectly along his body, and Bucky couldn't help the tiny moan that escaped as his thumbs brushed Bucky's nipple.

Bucky let his eyes close as he remembered what was quite possibly the last time he would know Steve that way.

"You're so beautiful," he had said. Bucky had heard those words before, but never really known how powerful they could be. He made him feel beautiful. Bucky would never been so physically open with another person before, letting him explore every part of his body. He always looked at the brunet with wonder and fascination, never allowing him to feel ashamed or self-conscious. He hoped Steve knew how much that meant to him.

Dragging his hands lazily over the water’s surface, Bucky remembered standing with him in the gentle rain, relishing in the feel of just being together. Bucky thought of how his hands had moved along his body. Bucky leaned back into him, feeling him hard and warm against him. Steve’s need for him seemed to be almost as insatiable as Bucky's need for him. Bucky knew there wasn't time. They couldn't keep pushing away their responsibilities to indulge this growing passion between them. Yet once again, Bucky found himself unable to say no.

He'd thrown the younger man playfully on to the bed, only taking enough time to open Bucky up before pushing himself inside of him. It was soft and teasing, so very different from how they usually were. He'd kissed Bucky's eyes, his nose, and his cheeks leaving no part of his body untouched. He'd whispered things to him that Steve didn't understand, and he knew they spoke to Steve as if he understood every word. When they'd come together at the end, Bucky knew that no matter where he looked, he would never find this again.

Deciding it was time to face reality, the brunet moved to the edge of the pool and climbed out, instantly thankful for all of the large heaters surrounding the patio. Startled by a throat clearing behind him, Bucky turned; shocked to find Steve was there. He wanted to talk, to explain what had happened, that it was all a misunderstanding. He'd felt the same guilt and fear that Bucky had.

Even as his fingertips ran along Bucky's jaw and his hand wrapped itself into his brown hair, Bucky had tried to hold back. He couldn't finish the words to tell Steve that he couldn't do this. He tried to fight the way his stomach fluttered as Steve touched him and how Bucky's heart ached when the blond said he wanted him.

"I know what I want," he had said. "I want you, but I don't know how to make it right. To have you and make it right. Tell me how, Bucky." Bucky gazed at him, seeing his own hopes and fears reflected back. Bucky wanted it too. He wanted Steve more than he had ever wanted anything, and when he'd looked into Bucky's eyes and said he had Steve, Bucky crumbled.

Then Bucky's lips met his in a deep, needful kiss. It wasn't enough and in his desperate need for reassurance, Bucky had the lead. His hands roamed Steve’s body, quickly becoming frustrated by the lack of skin that met his fingertips. He pulled at the blond’s clothes and tore at his buttons in his haste to rid them of the barriers between their bodies. Bucky had gasped as he felt Steve’s warm hands find his chest and nipples, losing himself, even more, when he'd whispered against Bucky's damp skin.

Their clothes were quickly shed, lost and forgotten along the smooth wood floor. Bucky needed him now and pushed him back, straddling his hips as he sank into the plush cushions. The brunet’s mouth moved over every inch of Steve’s body, needing to permanently etch the taste and feel of him against his lips into his brain. He lifted his body above Steve, and they both groaned as Bucky finally took him inside after he opened himself up above Steve. Bucky's hips rocked against him as Steve rose up to meet him, their bodies moving as one. He was lost in their connection, feeling it in every fiber of Bucky's being. A wave of emotion began to build as the perfectness of the moment threatened to overtake him. He felt Steve move suddenly, his arms encircling Bucky's waist, his face buried against the younger man’s chest. Every feeling and fear Bucky had been trying to hide from rushed to the surface, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to form behind his closed eyes. He whispered Steve’s name and wrapped his body around him, needing him closer.

"Oh God, Bucky. I need you." His words were simple, and yet they touched a buried place inside of the brunet.

His hand moved to cradle Bucky’s face and he moaned as the blond kissed Bucky's lips. Bucky began to feel his own body tighten as it searched for something just out of reach. Steve felt it too and his movements quickened and Steve begged for him to say what he needed to hear.

"Sunt a ta," he murmured against Steve's ear over and over. The words were foreign to him but the emotion behind them was not. They broke through the last wall, and in that moment Bucky knew that he couldn't be without him. Steve had changed how Bucky saw the world and himself, and he knew that he would never see anything in the same way again. The tears slipped down Bucky's cheeks as the intensity of both the physical and emotional connection engulfed him. The sound of his panicked voice brought the brunet back as Steve pulled him down with him, cradling him against his warm body.

Pressing Bucky's face against his chest, he closed his eyes, loving the way his fingers felt entwined with his own. Steve whispered soft words against his brown hair and Bucky found himself snuggling farther into his side. In that one moment, lost in the warm embrace of this complex and beautiful man, the world felt right.

Just on the edge of Bucky's mind, other thoughts were looming, trying to break through and take this away, but he wouldn't let them. For tonight, until the sun came up and the suitcases were packed, he was Bucky’s.

The air had cooled, and even with the heaters just outside the cabana, Bucky could feel the drop in temperature against his skin. Goosebumps spread across his body, but he didn't want to end this moment. Soft lips pressed against Bucky's hair and lingered. He felt Steve’s warm breath tickle his scalp and Bucky sighed, loving the simple, yet intimate act. Bucky didn't know how long they stayed that way before his voice broke the silence.

"We should probably head back downstairs," he murmured. Was he imagining it, or did he sound as reluctant to leave as Bucky felt? "It's starting to get cold, and your hair is still wet." His hand moved up Bucky's arm to his wet hair, and he couldn't help but close his eyes as his fingers toyed with the damp strands.

"I know," Bucky sighed, and yet, neither of them moved. He exhaled deeply and Bucky's head rose and fell with the movement of his chest. What was Steve thinking? Did he wonder what would happen tomorrow? Did he look at the luggage sitting in the corner with the same disdain that Bucky did?

Shifting Bucky's head, he ran his nose across the smooth skin he had been resting on, relishing in the way he smelled. Bucky placed a small kiss against his ribs and looked up at him. Steve was watching him closely, a strange and intense expression on his face. their gazes held and the tightening in Bucky's chest intensified.

"Come downstairs with me," he said softly. Bucky nodded, still looking into his eyes as he released a deep breath, the warm moist air fanning Bucky's face. Moments passed before he made a move, sitting up slowly and pulling the brunet with him. Untangling their limbs, his eyes roamed the patio floor in search of their clothes.

They redressed quickly and Bucky looked behind them as Steve pulled him by the hand towards the elevators. He was reluctant to leave this perfect place and all that he had experienced here. they passed through the elaborate iron gate and entered the hotel, and he swore he felt the weight of the real world suddenly press in on himself ever so slightly. His fingers still entwined with Bucky’s, Steve pulled him against him as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Bucky kissed his neck softly, and encouraged by the soft moan that emanated from his throat, and then moved to brush his lips against the blond. His free hand went to Bucky's hair, tilting his head as he deepened their kiss. Bucky was barely conscious of the elevator reaching their floor as Steve pulled him along, his lips never leaving Bucky’s. In an uncharacteristic move, Steve continued to kiss him as he walked backward down the hall. They bumped into the wall and he smiled against his lips as he took the key card from Bucky's hand and fumbled to get it into the lock. They stumbled into the room, breaking their kiss only long enough for him to place the Do Not Disturb sign outside the door.

\---

Opening his eyes, Bucky was instantly filled with a sense that something wasn't right. He ran his hand along the sheets in an attempt to assure himself Steve was there, only to find an empty spot next to him. The room was dark and Bucky reached for his phone on the bedside table to see the time, 2:43 a.m. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the room around him and was relieved when Bucky spotted a thin sliver of light seeping out from beneath the bathroom door. Calm down, Bucky. He's just in the bathroom.

Lying back against the pillows, he pulled the sheet up to his chin and attempted to shake the uneasy feeling he had awoken with. Bucky had been overcome with an unexplainable fear that he'd left sometime during the night. Despite everything that had happened at the pool, Bucky couldn't shake this fear that Steve would start to pull away again, and he had no idea how he would handle it if Steve did.

Glancing at the time again, Bucky groaned. In four hours and eight minutes, they would be on a plane on their way home. Home. A word that used to fill him with such feelings of comfort and security now made Bucky's stomach clench with panic and anxiety. Returning home meant going back to a life that very well could end the connection they had shared all week. His stomach dropped just as it did whenever that thought crossed his mind. Bucky could try and push it aside for all it was worth, but that didn't change the fact that by this time tomorrow Bucky would be in his own bed back in New York City. Alone.

He rolled over and pulled the pillow against his body, seeking comfort. Steve’s pillow. He peered towards the bathroom door, trying to focus on any noise Bucky could hear coming from inside. There wasn't any.

He continued to lie there, clutching his pillow as his eyes began to grow heavier. Bucky wanted to wait for him. He knew he was being silly, but Bucky needed the reassurance of his warm body next to his own and the feel of Steve’s strong arms wrapped around him. Bucky sighed and smiled slightly as he imagined the blond holding him, whispering that this was all real and nothing would change in the morning. Before long, his eyes drifted closed and he slipped back into an uneasy sleep.

Sometime later, Bucky awoke again, finding that he was still alone. Rolling over quickly he looked at the time, 3:14 a.m. What? Fumbling in the darkness, Bucky put on the first thing he found and walked to the bathroom.

"Steve?" No answer. Bucky knocked softly. "Steve?" A groan and a soft shuffle sounded from the other side of the door.

"Just go away." His voice was hoarse and echoed off the bathroom walls.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"I'm just not feeling well. I'll be fine, just go back to bed."

"Is there anything I can get you?" Bucky questioned.

"I'm fine. Just please, go back to bed."

"But-"

"Bucky," he groaned, obviously getting annoyed with his questions.

Okay. Bucky turned, unsure of what to do, battling an odd unsettling feeling. Did Steve even get sick? In a year, Bucky would never seen him with so much as a stuffy nose. It was obvious Steve didn't want him hovering outside the door, but there was no way Bucky could go back to sleep either. Walking back to the bed, Bucky straightened the blankets and headed towards the suite's living room. He grabbed a bottle of water from the mini bar and sat on the couch.

If he was sick, like really sick, there was no way they would make their flight in a couple of hours. Bucky knew it was wrong and he felt horrid for even thinking it, but he couldn't help the momentary feeling of happiness that washed over him. They didn't have to leave. Not yet anyway.

Feeling calmer, although slightly guilty, Bucky switched on the TV and began flipping through the channels. Infomercial. Bad movie. Nick at Nite. Ahh, Wayne's World. Sitting back into the couch, he pulled a blanket over his lower half and prepared to wait. Halfway through the movie, Bucky heard the water running in the bathroom. He sat up and listened as it was the first sound he had heard in over an hour. The bathroom door opened and Bucky flew off the couch, grabbing another bottle of water before entering the bedroom.

"Are you feeling better?" Bucky asked worriedly.

"Yes, much better. I think I just need to sleep now," he replied as he climbed back into bed, burying his face into the pillow.

"What…what was wrong?" Bucky placed the bottle of water down on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"It was just my stomach. I think it was the sushi." His eyes were closed and even in the dim light coming from the other room, Bucky could see that he looked like hell. He turned away from Bucky slightly but he ignored it, placing one hand in his hair and the other on his cheek. His hair was damp and his face was pale and clammy, and despite his initial reaction, he leaned into Bucky's touch.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Bucky asked softly, brushing a few damp blond strands away from his forehead.

"Because the last thing I wanted was you in there watching me throw up," he replied almost grumpily, and Bucky rolled his eyes, offering him the bottle of water.

"I could have done something. You don't have to be such a man," Bucky teased, relieved when he rolled his eyes back at him.

"Bucky didn't want to wake you." He glanced at me for a moment before looking down. "We have a flight in a couple of hours and you needed to sleep."

"No," Bucky insisted, shaking his head and pulling the covers over him more. "We're not going anywhere. You just get some rest and I'll take care of everything else." Bucky was surprised when he didn't argue and reluctantly nodded his head in agreement.

"Good, thank you for not being stubborn." and Steve mumbled something under his breath in return and rolled over, falling asleep almost instantly.

Grabbing his phone and his room key from the dresser, Bucky was about to walk out into the hallway when he noticed what he was wearing: Steve’s dress shirt from last night. Only his dress shirt and a pair of boxers. Bucky couldn't go to Steve’s room and get his briefcase dressed like this. Bucky rummaged around in his luggage until he found a pair of sweat pants and put them on. Hopefully, no one would be in the halls at this hour. Bucky looked up and down the large hallway before leaving the room and made a beeline for his door. God, why did Bucky feel like he was committing a crime? Quickly unlocking Steve’s suite, Bucky gathered his briefcase, toiletries, and a fresh change of clothes. Bucky headed back towards his own room and mentally made a list of all the things Bucky would need to do. This is what Bucky was good at, being in charge and making plans. Hopefully, this would be the distraction he needed today to keep his mind busy.

As Bucky entered the room, he placed Steve’s briefcase on the table and took his clothes with him into the bedroom. The sound of his deep breathing greeted Bucky and he couldn't resist the urge to run his fingers through Steve’s hair and place a kiss on his forehead. He stirred slightly and Bucky quickly stepped back, not wanting to wake him. Leaving his clothes in the bathroom, Bucky took what he needed and got to work.

Rearranging their flight turned out to be more difficult than Bucky had originally thought. Between a meeting that couldn't be changed on such short notice and a ton of booked flights, their only option was to fly out late tonight. Bucky rebooked the flight and prayed Steve was right about it just being something he ate. By 8:30, Bucky would reschedule anything he could, spoke to the hotel about their rooms.

Bucky heard him moving around a couple more times as he passed between the different rooms, but over the next few hours, his trips became less frequent. Bucky checked on him often, making sure he wasn't too warm or too cold and that he was drinking, but otherwise gave him the space he needed. Steve seemed especially grateful for that. Bucky wanted to offer comfort and spend every last minute he could next to him, but he also understood Steve’s need to not appear weak in front of him.

Bucky walked into the darkened bedroom to change and check on him one last time before leaving to get some things to help Steve feel a little better. Bucky was surprised to find Steve sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes trained on the floor. He appeared to be deep in thought, but upon Bucky's entering, he lifted his gaze to meet the brunet’s and the corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smile. Crossing the room, Bucky stopped with his feet just in front of the blond’s. Slowly, he reached out and hesitantly placed his hand on the younger man’s waist. They stood in silence as his thumbs traced small circles along Bucky's abdomen and his other hand moved to rest on his hip. Ever so slowly Steve pulled him closer to him, his eyes focused intently on the patterns he rubbed on Bucky's shirt.

"I like you in my shirt," he said quietly. The edges of his smile lifted a little more, something anyone who had studied his feature any less wouldn't have noticed.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I like it too." Bucky thought it was a little silly, it was just a dress shirt, Bucky owned and wore these to work basically every day, but something about it being slightly larger and Steve’s made it feel different. The quiet of the room wrapped around them, the only noise being the sound of his fingers brushing along the fabric and their soft breathing. He looked up at the brunet finally, and his chest hurt at how tired Steve appeared. Bucky reached out to him and lightly brushed the hair from his forehead, loving the way the silky strands slipped through his fingertips.

"Thank you, Bucky." His words were sincere and gentle, and he accepted them without question, letting them just enjoy this small moment together. His hands seemed to tremble slightly as he slid them to Bucky's lower back before wrapping his arms completely around the brunet. He stepped between Steve’s legs, Bucky's arms encircling him as Steve rested his cheek against his stomach. He sighed deeply and Bucky leaned in, placing a kiss into his hair. Bucky never wanted to leave.

"You're welcome." He spoke softly as he laid his cheek against the top of Steve’s head, loving the way he tightened his hold on him. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," he answered.

"You look so tired," the brunet whispered as he began running fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His body seemed to relax further into him and Bucky smiled with the knowledge that he was learning how to comfort Steve.

"I am," Steve affirmed with a nod and a sigh. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled away and put his hands on the blond’s face. 

"I need to run to a store, so I want you to get more sleep." He could see that Steve was about to protest and the younger man shook his head. "Please? I've already taken care of everything. All you need to do is rest. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

"No, I'm just going to sleep… or throw up. I'll let you know."

"Well thank you for sharing," Bucky laughed, still unwilling to move quite yet.

"Will you promise to put Bucky's shirt back on when you come home?" His fingers toyed with the damaged bottom of Bucky's shirt, touching where each of the missing buttons would have been. Bucky's stomach fluttered at his use of the word "home."

"Well…if that will make you feel better," Bucky replied teasingly with a small shrug.

"It will." Steve smiled widely at him and the flutter intensified. God, that smile always left Bucky weak. On shaky legs, he pulled away from Steve to go change, conscious of the fact that he was watching his every move.

Gathering his clothes, Bucky slipped into the bathroom and dressed quickly in a pair of sweatpants, a shirt and jacket. When he returned to the bedroom, Bucky laid Steve’s shirt at the foot of the bed and watched the blond as he slipped on his running shoes. He seemed to have fallen asleep again, and Bucky battled with himself not to walk over and kiss him goodbye. Maybe getting out for a bit would be a good idea. The brunet placed Steve’s cell phone near the bed, making sure the ringer was on vibrate, and with one last look, Bucky quietly stepped out of the room.

It didn't take him long to find a store and pick up what he needed. Within twenty minutes Bucky was on his way back to the hotel. He was pleased to hear the sound of the TV on as he entered the hotel room.

"Hi," Bucky said, unable to hide his smile when he saw Steve sitting up in bed.

"Hey," he answered back. Bucky couldn't resist bending over to place a small kiss on his hair before setting down the bag and removing his jacket. The blond smelled wonderful, and the scent of his soap and shampoo filled the room. Bucky toed off his shoes as he entered the room.

"You look better." He had obviously showered and was wearing the pajama bottoms Bucky had brought him.

"I feel better. Thank you,” Steve said quietly. 

"It was nothing." Bucky shrugged, a bit uneasy under his gaze. He lifted his head and saw Steve had moved to open the juice and was eating a popsicle. The brunet was unsure of where to go when the other man patted the bed next to him. Bucky climbed in, after removing his shirt, sitting with his head against the headboard, and took the popsicle the blond offered him.

"So, I made most of the arrangements earlier. They have a flight tonight at eleven if you're up to it and I rescheduled everything but you're meeting to sign the papers tomorrow evening at JemCo." He nodded slowly and seemed to be thinking.

"What are you watching?"

"Clerks, it's a commercial right now," he answered, still not looking at Bucky.

"Awesome. That's one of my favorite movies," the brunet said as he settled back into the pillows.

"I know. You were quoting it the first day I met you."

"Actually, that was Clerks 2," Bucky clarified, and then stopped. "Wait, you remember that?" Then turned towards him, surprised that he had any recollection of their horrible first meeting.

"Of course I remember that." Steve’s head was down and the regret in his voice was clear.

"But-" He stopped, unable to even form the words that Bucky wanted to say.

"I know," The blond said as he looked at him, pain and remorse evident in his features. "I was an asshole to you, Bucky." Reaching over, he took Bucky's hand, entwining their fingers. He looked look down at their joined hands, his thumb moving in small circles across Bucky's skin. 

"I've…when I think of how I used to…" he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish his thought. Bucky continued to watch him, moved beyond words by his admission. This was…so unexpected.

"We both did, Steve. It's fine. It was as much my fault as it was yours." Steve looked at him then, and the intensity of his eyes sent a tremor through him. He nodded after a moment of thought and turned back to the TV. Bucky knew there was so much more that they both needed to say, but he couldn't help but be slightly proud at what, in Bucky's opinion, was a huge admission. They fell into a comfortable silence as they continued to watch the movie. They both laughed in the same places and slowly shifted their bodies until their arms were pressed against each other. At some point, Bucky's head fell to his shoulder and he closed his eyes, and after a few minutes, Steve laid his against Bucky. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky glanced at the clock on the wall and inwardly sighed as he mentally calculated the hours he had left with Steve.

His stomach growled, and Bucky realized he had yet to eat today. "Are you ready to eat something more than popsicles?" The brunet asked as he reluctantly moved away from him, retrieving the room service menu from the dresser.

"I could probably eat something light," he answered. "It's been hours so I should be good." They looked over the choices and Bucky placed the order, a chicken salad for him and chicken soup for Steve They began another movie as they waited, coming to an easy decision to order Shaun of the Dead from the on-screen menu. Bucky was surprised to notice when a knock sounded at the door signaling lunch had arrived, that they had once again gravitated back towards each other, Bucky's bare feet now twisted with his under the blanket.

They ate in companionable silence and continued to watch the movie. About halfway through, Bucky was surprised to hear Steve's voice. "Bucky? What's your favorite movie?" He turned to Steve, surprised by the question.

"Well," Bucky began. "I tend to like funny movies. Clerks, Tommy Boy, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Clue; things like that. But I would have to say my all-time favorite movie would probably be Rear Window."

"Because of Jimmy Stewart or Grace Kelly?" Bucky smiled, surprised that he knew it.

"Both, but probably Grace Kelly."

"I can see that. You have similar tendencies." The blond’s hand came up and smoothed his brown hair and then traced lightly along Bucky’s strong jaw. "Except for your filthy mouth that is," he added. Bucky looked up at him with feigned shock on Bucky's face.

"Very funny, jackass," Bucky said as he smacked his arm. Steve chuckled, obviously very pleased with himself.

"You know, if you would shut up once in a while you'd be damn near perfect. I've even considered walking around with a roll of tape in my pocket." The younger man popped a cracker into his mouth and Steve looked at him for a moment before breaking into the sexiest laugh Bucky would ever heard. Yeah, that was rapidly becoming Bucky's favorite sound.

"Oh, I don't know. You can be a pain in the ass too.” He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. 

“I think you like some of the things that come out of my mouth. Right, tătic?" He leaned in towards Steve and ran his nose along his neck.

"You don't play fair," Steve sighed, faking discontent, feeling the brunet laugh softly against his skin.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Bucky had turned completely towards him now, his legs tangled in Bucky's and his hand resting on his thigh. Bucky's breath hitched slightly as Steve’s lips ghosted along his ear. "Okay, okay," he said with a chuckle, pulling away slightly and resting his head on the pillow.

"Favorite color?"

"Not so fast, you didn't tell me your favorite movie." They were now both lying on their sides facing each other, and Bucky noticed happily that his color had returned.

"Oh, are they taking turns now?" he laughed, his smile widening.

"Unless you can think of something else to do." He raised his eyebrows at him and Bucky did his best to ignore him.

"Well, to be honest, I liked all the movies you named." The brunet looked at him in shock.

"Really?"

"Why does that surprise you?" He moved the arm he was laying on to the pillow above his head and his fingers began to absentmindedly play with the strands of Bucky's hair.

"I don't know, I guess I just assumed it would be some artsy movie." He laughed again and Bucky smiled widely at the sound.

"Well I do enjoy a lot of artsy movies," he began. "But I like plain old funny movies too. Okay, your turn, favorite color?"

"Probably red."

Steve nodded slightly, seemingly in thought and content with the answer.

Bucky looked at him after answering, raising an eyebrow at his comment. "Favorite color?" His gaze moved behind him as Steve considered.

"Hmmm….I'm going to go with, blue. Any shade of blue really.” Steve answered. 

“I like blues too,” Bucky said in response before the two of them fell into a comfortable silence and with eyes trained on the TV. 

"Bucky?" Steve said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Will you tell me something?" He nodded and the blond continued. "Tell me about your tattoo?" Steve's finger slid down the younger man’s bare chest to the edge of his tattoo peeking out above his sweatpants. Steve smiled as he shivered slightly.

"It's really not a very interesting story. I was nineteen and was in college at NYU. I was walking down the street one day in Brooklyn, where I grew up with my mom and younger sister. I had wanted desperately to move back in with my mother and I missed Brooklyn most days. I had turned down an alley and looked up to see some beautiful graffiti. I had such a visceral reaction as I read the cursive words; I can't describe it…it just connected with me. They said ‘regret nothing’ and I knew right then that it meant something, that this was how I needed to live my life; to make every decision count and to look back and know it all happened for a reason. 'nu regret nimic,' it means, I regret nothing."

"I think that's a beautiful story," Steve said, completely enraptured in the image of a young Bucky, lonely and questioning. He nodded. "And is that true? That's how you've lived your life?"

"It is. I regret nothing that's happened in my life, none of the decisions I've made." He placed his hand on Steve's face. "I don't regret anything that's happened between us. I want you to know that." His fingers slid gently across Steve's shoulder and down his arm. The blond then took Bucky's hand in his, placing his palm flat against his. Bucky followed his eyes to their hands and watched as he slowly entwined their fingers. "Nu regret nimic. I don't regret this, Steve." He brought their joined hands to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of Bucky's hand. How in the world could he make something as chaste as a kiss on the hand seem so intimate? Bucky couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him and Steve laughed quietly, placing another soft, lingering kiss there. "I love that it has that effect on you." The brunet had been rendered slightly incoherent by this point and simply nodded.

“And what language is it?” Came Steve’s next question.

“Romanian. It was my mother’s first language and she taught my sister and I.” Bucky answered. 

They continued to talk for hours, eventually taking a break to order dinner and even watching another movie. At some point, Bucky fell asleep and woke to the sound of the alarm going off on his phone.

Reaching over, he grabbed it and shut it off, noticing how dark the room had become. He looked at Steve asleep next to him and realized with a sinking feeling in his chest that their time was up. He couldn't believe that for those few hours they spent talking, he hadn't thought about going home once. Now however, Bucky could feel the panic beginning to take hold. Slipping from the bed, he stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. There was no hiding from reality anymore, it was inevitable. Turning on a few lights, he slowly made his way back to the bed to wake Steve. He stirred and his eyes opened. He looked confused at first as he watched the brunet, but Bucky knew the moment of realization dawned on him.

"Is it time?" he asked, a nod being Bucky's only reply. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm going to get in the shower and get ready." Bucky's voice was hollow and lifeless, sounding strange to his own ears. The mood in the air was heavy and suffocating.

"I'll go to my room and do the same," Steve said as well and they parted as Bucky turned and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Closing his eyes, Bucky leaned his forehead against the cool wood, listening as Steve moved around to get dressed and eventually passing the bathroom on his way to leave. The younger man felt Steve’s footfalls across the carpet and sensed him stop just outside. Something brushed against the other side, and Bucky couldn't help but imagine him placing his hand on the door separating them. Bucky heard him sigh and step away, the sound soon followed by the click of the lock as Steve closed the door behind him.

The silence around him was deafening and Bucky realized he was now alone. He was unable to stop the sob that tore through his throat as he sank to his knees onto the bathroom floor. Ceaseless sobs racked his body and hot tears flowed freely down his cheeks as Bucky realized that the man he loved had just left. He had tried to keep him out. He had tried to remind himself that Steve was a player and no good for him, that Steve was unavailable and could never be Bucky’s, but none of it mattered. At some point, the brunet had given Steve his heart and he knew now that he would never get it back.

He was not sure how long he sat there, but eventually, the tears stopped, and Bucky emerged from the haze long enough to realize that he was still sitting on the cold marble floor with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Bucky was grateful for the sense of numbness that overtook him as he pulled himself up and turned on the shower. He moved through the motions of getting ready, barely conscious of his surroundings. He dressed and moved as if in a trance as he gathered all his belongings and placed them in bags. When the last item was packed he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the luggage sitting in the corner. It mocked him, representing all that Bucky was leaving behind. Its presence seemed to grow in the stillness of the room, taunting him.

Still blessedly shrouded in an aching numbness, unbidden images passed through Bucky's mind.

Among them, Bucky saw Steve’s smile at the airport. He heard Steve’s voice as he told him he wanted Bucky. He saw how beautiful the blond was as he covered Bucky's body with his. He watched Steve laugh as he playfully teased. One last memory stood out above the rest, something so trivial that to anyone else it would seem meaningless. Closing Bucky's eyes, he let the image of a darkened room fill the emptiness behind his closed lids. He let the sound of Steve saying his name wash over him, remembering how it felt to hear him whisper it against his skin as he held Bucky in this very bed.

A knock sounded against the door and Bucky stood, smoothing his shirt before he made his way to it. Taking a deep breath, he swung it open to reveal Steve standing in the hallway. He looked perfect as usual in a gorgeous dark suit and tie. His hair stood in its usual disarray, and the slight scruff that still lined his jaw showed that he had decided to forgo shaving. His eyes met Bucky's and narrowed briefly as he took in his appearance, and if he noticed anything was wrong, he was thoughtful enough not to bring it up.

Bucky moved aside so he could enter, and Steve’s body brushed up against his as he passed. Without thinking, Bucky pushed him roughly against the wall and twisted his tie around his hand, pulling Steve down to him. Bucky's lips met his harshly and the blond froze, surprised at his sudden action. Bucky's free hand moved up his chest and fisted in the hair at the nape of his neck.

His body slowly began to relax against the brunet, and as Steve’s tongue reached out to meet his, Bucky groaned into his mouth. In the back of his mind, Bucky knew that he was being manipulative. This was a last desperate attempt to keep Steve here with him. Even then, with the shame of what Bucky was doing burning in his gut, he was helpless to stop it. Bucky rocked his hips against Steve and felt a thrill rush through him as his hardened cock pressed against Bucky's own. His hands moved between them to his belt, pulling Steve closer to where Bucky needed him to be.

"Baby," he moaned breathlessly, pulling his mouth away from the younger man’s. "Baby, we don't have time for this."

"I don't fucking care. I want you." Steve swore under his breath at the words and tangled his hands deeper into Bucky's hair, his mouth returning roughly to his. "Oh God, Steve. I need you." They stumbled forward in the small entryway and Bucky felt his back pushed against the cool wall. Placing his hand over Steve’s, Bucky locked their fingers together and slid it down his own body to his thigh. "Tell me that you want me." Bucky pushed their fingers further up Bucky's thigh against his growing erection.

Pulling Steve’s lips from his, he looked down at their joined hands resting on Bucky's thigh. "You have no idea how badly I want you, baby." He pushed against Bucky as his fingers toyed with the fabric of Bucky's pants. Using the hand still wrapped in his hair, he moved Bucky's head to the side, leaving his neck open to Steve’s hungry kisses.

"Fuck me, Steve. Please." Bucky felt him groan loudly against his neck, and the brunet gasped as he felt his teeth bite the tender skin there. His fingers still splayed on Bucky's thigh moved further up to his belt. "Just one more time. Please."

His body stilled, and Bucky was suddenly aware of the wild thrumming of his heart against his chest. Steve pulled his head from Bucky's neck, his eyes searching Bucky's face.

"What?" Bucky whispered breathlessly. "Don't stop." Bucky leaned forward and placed his lips against Steve’s, only to have him pull farther back.

"Bucky, stop," he said softly. Bucky felt his grip loosen on his belt before sliding his hand down his leg and eventually releasing it altogether. "Baby, what are you doing?"

Bucky looked down, no longer wanting to look in his beautiful eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Even to him, the words sounded like a lie.

Bucky felt Steve place a hand on either side of his face, and he brought his eyes up to meet his. "Listen to me, Bucky. I want more from you than this. And when we get on that plane, everything that we have here will come with us. I promise you." Bucky's eyes searched his face and saw nothing but sincerity there. "Do you believe me? I am yours." He wanted to believe Steve, more than anything.

"Yes." Steve brought his forehead to rest against his and Bucky closed his eyes.

"I promise, Bucky."

"Sunt a ta, I'm yours." Came the younger man’s soft words. He smiled the most beautiful smile Bucky had ever seen and placed his warm lips softly to his. The brunet’s heart screamed to tell him he loved Steve, but Bucky's head wouldn't let him. Was this all Bucky could have with him? As he thought about it, he realized that if this was all that Steve could give him, Bucky would gladly take it.

He pulled away and straightened Bucky's jacket before attending to himself. "Are you ready?" Bucky nodded and he felt Steve’s fingertips brush against his palm before his hand wrapped around his. "The bellman is coming up to get our bags," he said, motioning behind them. Bucky nodded again as he pulled them towards the door. The brunet took a deep breath and readied himself for all that awaited them. Steve squeezed Bucky's hand in reassurance as he opened the door. Voices carried back into them from the hall and before they stepped out, he brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed it softly. 

"Sunt a ta," he said once more, and Steve understood.

Bucky followed him out into the hall and felt Steve’s hand fall from his.


	14. With You I Am Finally Home

The sound of the jet engines whirled around them, the constant vibration coupled with the soothing darkness of the first-class cabin attempting to ease Steve's exhausted body into sleep. It wasn't working. Even if his body wanted to, there was no way Steve's mind could. One after another, images flickered through his head like scenes in a movie. Every moment of being with Bucky, no matter how inconsequential it seemed at the time, was now burned into Steve's brain and played before his closed eyes.

He watched it go by in a blurry rush. Steve saw Bucky for the first time as he smiled and laughed, reliving the enormity of knowing that somehow Steve's life would never be the same. He recalled the first time Steve let himself touch the brunet, his hand creeping up Bucky's thigh in a darkened conference room, learning the unfathomable completeness of being inside the younger man’s body. Steve laughed at all the times he lied to himself, thinking that if he had Bucky once he could walk away but knowing from the moment they came together, it would never be enough. Steve's chest tightened and he was overcome with the same flood of emotion he felt that night at the pool when he recalled the exact moment he knew he couldn't live without Bucky.

He looked down to where Steve's hand was currently wrapped around the brunet’s, hidden under the blue blanket across their laps. He’d been forced to let Bucky go as they stepped into the hallway at the hotel, and from the moment they entered the car Steve hadn't released it again until they reached the airport. As they settled into their seats, it had been obvious that Bucky was exhausted, and within minutes of taking off, he saw Bucky's eyes begin to droop. Knowing Steve couldn't resist touching him the entire flight, he'd asked for the blanket and immediately put it over their laps, once again taking Bucky's hand in his.

\---

It was early morning, and the sky was still dark, the dimness broken up by only a few overhead reading lamps casting small pools of light throughout the cabin. It felt oddly peaceful. Steve turned his head slightly to look down at Bucky and felt himself smile. His eyes were closed, with his lashes brushing his high cheekbones, his sharp jawline contrasting his round nose, his mouth open slightly as his chest rose and fell with his slumbering breaths. Bucky's head had fallen over onto Steve's shoulder, and although Steve knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to move him. He peered down at the younger man again, taking a moment to take his relaxed features again. Bucky was beautiful.

He knew Bucky had been up all night with him, and while Steve slept during the day Bucky had been busy making travel arrangements and taking care of the blond’s schedule. Steve still couldn't wrap his head around the way Bucky had been there for him; making sure every last detail was in order and most of all just taking care of him. Although it was miserable being sick, Steve would do it over and over again just to spend another day with Bucky like today.

They had talked and laughed; and if there was one sound Steve would never grow tired of, it was the sound of Bucky's laughter. He knew how to bring Bucky's body pleasure but to know that he could make the brunet happy in other ways was something Steve was still getting used to. They'd talked about books and movies, favorite colors and childhood friends, both of them surprised by how much they actually had in common.

They seemed to fit together so easily, and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see that being together like that was every bit as natural and comfortable as being together sexually. He felt himself falling a little deeper with every moment he spent with him, and Steve was starting to realize that he didn't want to find a way out.

They had fallen asleep at some point, their arms and legs tangled together, and he'd awaken to find a completely withdrawn Bucky walking towards him. He knew without Bucky's saying a word that it was time.

The younger man excused himself to shower, and Steve had done the same, stopping and placing his hand against the bathroom door on his way out. Steve needed to say something but was at a loss as to what.

He returned to his room and felt the difference immediately. Steve’s suite was quiet and cold, having none of the comfort and warmth that permeated every inch of Bucky's. The solitary atmosphere he would have once craved now felt hollow, the loneliness literally palpable in the air. Steve dressed and packed quickly, knowing only that he wanted to return to Bucky. Steve's emotions were a jumbled mess, and although he had no idea how to move forward, he knew that together they could find a way.

As he'd walked the short distance to Bucky's room, Steve worried slightly about what he would find when he got there. The look on Bucky's face when he'd woken up was in such sharp contrast to the carefree mood from earlier. He felt Bucky's pull away more every second and hoped the brunet would give them a chance to work through this.

His heart dropped at the sight that greeted him as Bucky opened the door. He was beautiful as always, but Bucky's features seemed pained and he appeared to have been crying. His gaze quickly left Steve’s, and it was obvious that he was embarrassed and uncomfortable with Steve seeing him like this.

Gritting his teeth to keep from saying something, Steve brushed by the younger man to enter the room, surprised when Bucky suddenly pushed him against the wall.

He stood frozen, shocked by Bucky's actions until Steve's body began to respond on its own. Bucky's kisses were frantic and desperate, and Steve felt himself being drawn into him again. Words of desire passed between them and although they didn't have time, he let himself be caught up in Bucky's urgency. Their moans bounced off the marble entryway, and the blond was mindful only of the want that pulled them forward. The brunet led their interlocked hands down his body and to his erection. 

"Fuck me, Steve. Please."

His words shot straight through Steve, and he kissed and bit roughly up and down Bucky's neck.

"Just one more time. Please."

Bucky’s words were so needful and anxious that Steve pulled away, looking deeply into his icy eyes. This wasn't the Bucky he knew. He looked frightened and ashamed, and Steve was certain that he never wanted to see that look on Bucky's face again.

"What? Don't stop." Bucky leaned in to kiss him again and Steve pulled away.

"Bucky, stop," Steve said, sliding his hands up the other’s body. "Baby, what are you doing?" Steve's stomach clenched as Bucky looked down, unable to meet his gaze. Did Bucky think this was all he wanted from him?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen to me, Bucky," Steve began, taking his face between his hands and lifting Bucky's chin to bring his gaze to the blond’s. "I want more from you than this. And when we get on that plane, everything that we have here will come with us. I promise you. Do you believe me? I am yours." Please believe me, Bucky.

He looked at Steve so intently, and he could see that Bucky wanted to believe him. Bucky whispered the only thing Steve needed to hear, "Yes," and Steve pressed his forehead to the brunet’s, silently promising the both of them that Steve would find a way to make this work. "Sunt a ta, I'm yours."

He looked at Bucky and couldn't hold back his smile. Steve hadn't realized how much he needed to hear the words from him, and he released a deep breath, letting the feeling wash over him. Bucky was his.

He helped Bucky right his clothes and took his hand, entwining Steve's fingers with his. "Are you ready?" Steve asked quietly, hoping Bucky understood all that his question entailed. Bucky nodded once and met Steve's eyes, smiling softly as he gave the younger man’s hand a reassuring squeeze. They both knew what leaving this place meant. The minute they stepped out the door, they would have to once again become Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes.

"The bellman is coming to get our bags," Steve said, motioning behind them. Opening the door slightly, Steve noticed the look of anxiety return to Bucky's face for a fleeting moment before he steadied himself. "Sunt a ta," Bucky whispered against Steve’s skin, trying to convey the depth of his feelings in those simple words. As Steve crossed the threshold into the hallway, he reluctantly let go of Bucky's hand, feeling the loss instantly. Steve nodded politely as a group of travelers passed him and closed the door behind them, already counting down the minutes until Steve could touch Bucky again.

\---

The pilot's voice over the speaker broke through Steve's memories, and he opened his eyes again to peer at Bucky. He was still sleeping soundly and after glancing quickly at the other passengers, Steve leaned into him. The smell of oranges drifted up to him as Steve pressed a soft kiss against his brown hair.

"Bucky," Steve whispered, shifting slightly to place another kiss on his forehead. "Bucky, baby. We're almost there." The blond ran his fingers lightly through Bucky's hair as he began to stir. Opening his eyes, Bucky smiled and then moved to sit up, looking slightly shocked to see Steve so close.

"It's okay," Steve began, placing his hand on the younger man’s face. "Everyone's still asleep. No one's even looked at us the whole flight." Bucky nodded and then leaned back into him slightly, his free hand covering their joined ones.

"Are we home?" Steve looked at him intently for a moment, trying to decipher why Bucky's question seemed to pull at something inside of him. To be honest, it had never really occurred to him that they weren't home. Bucky was with Steve, and apparently, that's all he needed. "Steve?" He shook his head slightly and smiled at the brunet.

"Yeah, we'll be landing any minute." Bucky nodded as he turned towards the window and Steve began to think about what would happen when they reached the airport. One thought, in particular, had been brewing in his mind since last night: Steve wanted Bucky to come home with him. Was that crossing the line?

God, Steve had no idea, Steve was so out of his element here. He only knew that things couldn't go back to the way they were. There was no way Steve could see his only during the week and keep his touches limited to chance encounters in secluded places. He wanted to make love to Bucky in his bed. Steve wanted to see where Bucky lived, to take the brunet to dinner and not be afraid of being seen. Clearing his throat, he decided it was now or never.

"Bucky, I-"

My question was cut off by an announcement from the crew informing them of their impending descent.

The other passengers began to stir around them and Steve knew the moment was lost.

The next ten minutes were spent with them organizing their things and Steve trying to psyche himself up again to ask him. Their landing was smooth and before Steve knew it, they were making their way towards the baggage claim. They stood next to each other, their shoulders barely touching, and Steve found himself covertly studying Bucky's profile. How Steve ever thought he could resist this man was beyond him. Bucky was soft and beautiful and it was amazing to learn that Bucky was even more beautiful on the inside.

A wave of emotion rose inside of him, and Steve knew he didn't want to be apart from Bucky. Steve turned to face him and placed his hand on Bucky's arm. "Bucky, I wa-"

"Bucky!" They both turned towards a young redhead around Bucky's age rushing towards them. "Bucky, it is you. Oh my God, I thought I saw you in the airport in Seattle but wasn't sure." Steve dropped his hand and stepped back slightly as the girl reached them.

"Dot, hi! You saw me in Seattle?" Bucky was smiling at his friend but glanced quickly at Steve, a slight look of panic on his face.

"I did. I wanted to come over to you but my phone kept ringing. Hey, wanna share a cab home?"

Dot waited expectantly and Steve's stomach dropped.

"Oh..um, sure," Bucky stammered, glancing over at him. "Dot and I live in neighboring apartment buildings." Steve smiled and nodded as Dot began to detail every minute of Bucky's visit with her boyfriend to the brunet. Bucky wouldn't need a ride home. Bucky wouldn't be coming over. Steve wouldn't even really get to say goodbye. He swallowed loudly, his chest tightening at that thought. Bucky had obviously realized it too because he kept sneaking glances at the blond over his friend's shoulder.

Their bags appeared on the conveyor belt, and Steve retrieved them, offering to help them both to a cab. As Steve placed the luggage in the trunk, he caught Bucky's eye across the top of the car. Steve smiled softly and hoped Bucky understood all that he wanted to say. Bucky walked back to stow his carry-on and Steve's hand brushed up against his inside the trunk. "I'll call you," Steve said quietly. Their eyes met and Bucky nodded, his fingers wrapping around the blond’s momentarily before stepping back. Dot made her way to them and placed her bag beside Bucky's.

"Ready to go?" Bucky asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"Sure," Bucky hesitated slightly before looking at Steve. "I'll see you Monday, Mr. Rogers." Turning quickly, Bucky climbed into the cab and closed the door. Stepping onto the curb, Steve watched until they were out of sight, already feeling the ache of Bucky's absence. A horn blaring off in the distance brought his attention back and Steve retrieved his luggage and began making his way to the long term lot.

\---

Later that night, Steve sat across a board room table from his colleagues. Sam had been thrilled to see him home from Seattle and even more thrilled that Bucky and Steve were getting along.

"Steve, I can't tell you how proud I am that you two have finally settled your differences. I'm telling you, work is going to be a much more pleasant experience for the both of you."

"I couldn't agree more," Steve replied, his eyes on the folder before him. Steve hated lying to his friends but even more, Steve couldn't get over the feeling that Tony knew something. Pepper had given him her word that she wouldn't say anything, but Tony had a way of seeing things you'd prefer he didn't.

For being such a dumb jock in college, he'd sure turned into a smart son of a bitch somewhere along the line. He'd ignored four of his calls and two text messages while Steve was gone, and the look he gave him as Steve walked into the meeting earlier told him that Steve wouldn't be able to put off this conversation much longer.

"So," he began, tapping his fingers on the table. "Will James be joining us?" Steve looked up at him with narrowed eyes. Fuck you, Tony.

"No," Steve stated flatly. "Mr. Barnes ran into a friend at the airport, and I believe they were going out this evening." Steve continued to glare at him, knowing he wouldn't dare to say something in front of Sam. Their staring match was disrupted by the client stepping into the room and they got down to business.

An hour later, Steve sat at the back of the darkened room watching a slideshow presentation, glad to be out of view of Tony. Steve's phone vibrated and his heart sped up, hoping it would be him.

Trying to appear nonchalant, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at it.

‘I can still feel your touch.’

He laid his phone face down on the table and attempted to not let any shock he felt show in his expression. When he was sure no one was looking, Steve tilted it back up again and re-read the message.

Fuck. Steve looked at the time and wondered how much longer they'd be in here. Trying to appear uninterested, he quickly typed a message in response and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

‘I miss your tattoo.’

Three minutes later, Steve felt his pocket vibrate again.

‘I can still taste your lips.’

His head fell back against the wall as Steve repeated the words back to himself. God, Steve didn't even know how to respond to that.

‘I miss you tasting me. I worried when I didn't hear from you. Everything ok?’

He couldn't believe how nervous he felt. What if Bucky had changed his mind?

‘Sorry. My volume was off and I fell asleep. Someone kept me up all week.’

Fuck. Steve didn't know which emotion was stronger, relief that Bucky hadn't had second thoughts or lust as Steve thought back to all the ways they had kept each other from sleeping. Steve suppressed a groan and had to readjust himself in his pants.

‘I can't say I'm sorry. I'd do it all over again if you'd let me.’

Steve couldn't keep the smirk from pulling at his lips and looked up to see Tony leaning far back in his chair, watching him. Shit, this was going to be a problem. Seconds later, another message arrived. Steve gave him a glare that told him to mind his own business. He looked away, and Steve glanced at the message.

‘I think I might like that.’

He almost dropped the phone. Steve cringed knowing he already had plans for the night, Sam had already asked him to come visit. Taking a deep breath, Steve typed a reply.

‘I have to go to Sam’s tonight. Can I call you when I'm done?’

‘Definitely.’

‘I want to see you tomorrow.’

His finger hovered over the send key. Steve was ready for this, but was Bucky? Steve needed this, they needed this. Closing his eyes, he sent the message and waited. Seconds later, Steve's phone vibrated in his hand.

‘I want to see you too.’

Oh, thank fucking God. Steve's head fell forward and he exhaled deeply. Bucky wanted this. A plan began to form in his head.

‘My place? I'll make you dinner.’

‘I'd love that. Can Steve make a request?’

A request? He laughed as it occurred to him that he would probably give Bucky anything he asked for. Steve answered quickly.

‘Anything.’

‘Wear jeans.’

What? Bucky wanted him in jeans? Steve shook his head and chuckled as he answered him.

‘Jeans, huh? You got it. Can Steve make a request?’

‘Oh, and don't shave.’

Steve stared at the phone in his hand, remembering the sounds Bucky made as he ran his face along his neck and chest and felt himself harden again. This was going to be a long night.

‘I'm still in my meeting; I'll talk to you in a couple of hours, deal?’

‘Deal.’

He hesitated for a moment before Steve typed out his response, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the send button and wondering if he was doing the right thing.

‘I miss you, Bucky.’

‘I miss you too.’

He missed him. Running Steve's finger over the screen, he re-read Bucky's words, already anticipating the moment he would see the younger man again.

\---

Steve awoke the next morning full of nervous energy. Bucky would be there tonight, in Steve's home and possibly in his bed. The blond had imagined it hundreds of times, never once thinking it would become a reality.

Knowing that in a mere ten hours Bucky would be standing in his apartment filled him with a sense of excitement he'd never known before. Getting up, Steve quickly dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes. He knew a run was the only thing that would clear his head and calm him down enough to get through the day. Going to the gym was out of the question. There was a chance he'd run into Tony, and until Bucky and Steve decided a few things, he didn't want to be forced into talking to him.

Grabbing a bottle of water and his phone, Steve left his apartment and took the elevator to the running track on the roof of the building. Turning the music up, Steve began to stretch, already feeling the tension leave his body. He ran until his muscles burned and his chest ached, leaving Steve's mind blissfully clear.

Seven miles later, Steve slowed to a walk, coming to a stop at the glass railing that surrounded the running track. It was moments like this that living here was worth every penny. At this height, the view was extraordinary. Steve found himself looking out into the city, past the tall buildings and towards the direction he knew Bucky's apartment to be. Five minutes. Steve sometimes found it hard to believe that all this time they had lived only five minutes apart from each other.

He knew that at some point tonight they needed to talk. Steve wanted to keep seeing him; there was no doubt about that, but what about everyone else? Steve knew that they really shouldn't see each other while Steve was still Bucky's boss, but the selfish side of him didn't want to let that go either. The blond shook his head, knowing fully well what an asshole Steve was for all of this. A part of him knew that no matter what, any relationship the two of them had would always be tarnished in other's eyes. Bucky would always be the assistant who fucked his boss and Steve would always be the cad who took advantage of him.

Scrubbing his hands roughly over his face, Steve let out a deep breath. He would just talk to Bucky and let him make the decision. It would all work out. It had to.

\---

Later that night, Steve made one final walk-through of his home. Everything was perfect. He'd gone shopping; getting everything together to make the one thing he'd seen Bucky order countless times at lunch meetings, Chicken Piccata. Steve had gone out and rented all the brunet’s favorite movies, the ones Steve didn't have anyway. He'd gotten Bucky flowers and even dressed like he'd asked, in jeans and a black t-shirt. Steve's face was unshaven as well. Everything was ready, and Steve was in the kitchen cutting vegetables when the doorbell rang. His hand froze, and his heart rate accelerated instantly. Bucky was finally here.

Steve opened the door, the air leaving his lungs when he saw Bucky standing in the hallway. Bucky turned towards the sound of the door opening and their eyes met, a slight smile turning up the corner of his lips. Bucky’s hair was styled fluffily on his head and Steve’s hand already itched to tangle in it. He was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt paired with a charcoal grey jacket, all of Steve's plans to take things slow went out the window.

"Hi," Steve said with a smile. Bucky raised an eyebrow, obviously seeing his appreciation and smiled widely back.

"Hi," he answered.

"Bucky, you look amazing," Steve whispered, unable to wait one more second to touch him. He stepped into the hallway and reached out to the brunet, his fingers gently wrapping around the back of Bucky's neck. Neither of them moved, their eyes burning into the others and the light scent of his cologne drawing the blond in. Steve's fingers gripped Bucky more firmly and he pulled the younger man to him a fraction of an inch, Bucky's breath catching with the movement. Steve's eyes fell to his mouth, and Steve groaned inwardly as he watched Bucky take his lower lip between his teeth, becoming mesmerized by the action. With agonizing slowness, Steve pulled Bucky's to him, closing his eyes as they finally kissed.

Touching his lips softly, Steve moaned at the sweet familiarity of Bucky's kiss. Slowly, Steve pulled away and looked once more into the brunet’s eyes before leaning in again, taking Bucky's bottom lip between his. 

Bucky’s lips parted and he moaned quietly as Steve's tongue entered his mouth, slipping languidly against his. Steve's hands were moving along his neck and hair, and he tilted Bucky's head, angling him into Steve's kiss. What started out as a soft, unhurried moment was rapidly building in intensity. His lips became greedy, tasting and teasing him, the feel of Bucky's lips against his consuming him.

A door closed down the hall and Steve realized they were still standing outside his apartment. Reluctantly, Steve pulled away, his nose brushing Bucky’s.

"We need to go inside or I'll take you right here in his hallway." Bucky's lips brushed against his and the brunet smiled.

"I don't think I'd mind that."

Steve suppressed a groan and forced himself to place some distance between them, Steve's fingers sliding softly down Bucky's arm and capturing his hand.

"Come on, you tease, let me feed you." Steve winked, and Bucky's smile widened as he pulled the brunet into his apartment. Closing the door behind them, he watched expectantly as Bucky's eyes roamed the space. He was quiet for a long moment, and Steve wished he knew what Bucky was thinking.

"This is beautiful, Steve." He watched Bucky walk further into his home and was surprised by how right it felt. Bucky's gaze fell on the large floor to ceiling windows and he walked towards them, his fingers trailing along the backs of Steve's dining room chairs as he passed. Bucky stopped in front of the large pane of glass and sighed. "Wow. This is just amazing." The sun was setting and the city lights wrapped around the room, twinkling through the glass that spanned both exterior walls. Steve walked slowly towards him and a flash of guilt struck him as Steve was reminded of their first time together.

He stood next to Bucky and unable to resist, Steve cupped Bucky's chin in his hand and turned his face towards him, bending over to place another soft kiss against Bucky's mouth. Pulling away, Steve felt the loss instantly as their gazes met. "Have I already told you that you look beautiful?" Bucky smiled at that.

"You did, and thank you. You look," Bucky paused and his eyes roamed appreciatively up and down the blond’s body. "Pretty damn good yourself." Steve laughed loudly and took Bucky's hand, loving the way he could so easily turn the tables on him.

"Thank you," Steve replied, pulling the younger man with him. "Let's give you the tour."

He showed Bucky around, enjoying his reaction to each room. As they stood in Steve's bedroom doorway he motioned inside. "This is my room," he said quietly, already imagining the brunet in his bed. Their eyes met, and the mutual anticipation of what the night could bring crackled between them. Steve suppressed the urge to grab Bucky and instead squeezed his hand, motioning back towards the kitchen. "Let's go check on dinner."

Steve led the way and Bucky's eyes widened, examining the room. Steve loved to cook and had spared no expense when designing the space. The large room was lined in dark cabinetry and painted a cool brown. The floors were covered in wide wooden planks and the soft recessed lighting was reflected in the polished stainless steel appliances and backsplash. The countertops were white granite and Steve watched with rapt attention as Bucky brushed his hand along the smooth surface.

"It’s perfect," Bucky sighed, his eyes meeting the blond’s across the center island. "Exactly like I imagined it would be." Steve had returned to chopping the vegetables he had abandoned earlier but paused as he heard Bucky's words.

"You've imagined what my apartment would look like?" Steve asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. Bucky nodded, his gaze never wavering.

"Over and over." Bucky's statement hung in the air and Steve's heart rate accelerated.

"How long?"

"Months."

Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. Placing the knife in his hand onto the cutting board, he walked around the island and stood in front of the brunet. Steve reached out glided his hand around to the nape of his neck as he pulled Bucky to him. The sheer raw need Steve always felt when he touched Bucky gripped him as their mouths came together.

Pulling back slightly, Steve's tongue slipped between Bucky's open lips, and he moaned as a wave of lust began in his stomach and surged straight towards his cock. Pressing Bucky's back into the counter, he gripped Bucky's hair tightly in one hand and was rewarded with a throaty moan.

"Bucky, I wanted to take this slowly," Steve murmured against Bucky's lips.

"Later." Bucky's breathless words ignited the lust he'd been trying to reign in and Steve's cock hardened even more. No longer holding back, Steve's fingers slid down Bucky's body and toyed with his belt loop, slowly beginning to move it down to Bucky's thigh. Steve's lips left his, and Steve closed his eyes as he felt the brunet’s hands move down Steve's body, his fingers curling around the waist of Steve's jeans.

Turning Bucky's head slightly, his lips trailed along the side of Steve's neck to his ear. "I like the jeans," Bucky whispered, Bucky's hot breath bringing goosebumps across Steve's skin. His grip tightened on Steve's pants and the blond felt the backs of Bucky's fingers brush along Steve's stomach, abdominal muscles clenching in response. “Want to take ‘em off you,” the brunet added. 

Steve’s mouth met his in another frantic kiss and in one quick movement, he moved to pull off Bucky’s shirt, tossing it haphazardly. Bucky's hands gripped the bottom of Steve's shirt and pulled it off as well, dropping it to the floor. Gripping Bucky's face, Steve pulled his mouth to his, their tongues sliding against each other. Steve pressed into him, his aching cock now straining against his jeans as it pushed against the younger man’s clothed erection. Running his fingers down Bucky's shoulders and chest, Steve let his hands travel down Bucky's toned stomach, stopping at the belt of his black jeans. 

"I need you, Steve," Bucky sighed into his mouth. In a frantic movement, Steve opened the brunet’s belt and fly, groaning at the feel of their bare chests brushing together as they kissed. Bucky's fingers began working on the buttons of Steve's jeans as well, Steve's dick twitching each time Bucky brushed against it. He snaked his hand into the brunet’s pants to wrap around his erection, Bucky jolting slightly at the contact. Steve felt the denim being pushed down his hips and his erection brushed against Bucky's hip. He finished undressing Bucky, ridding him of his pants and placed his hands on Bucky's hips, turning him, running his fingertips up Bucky's body and placing Bucky's palms on the cool granite. Steve’s dick pressed against Bucky as he bent over him to place hot kisses along his shoulder and upper back. 

"Do you know how badly I want you right now, Bucky? All the things I want to do to you?" Steve rolled his hips, grinding his achingly hard cock along the younger man’s ass. "What do you want? Do you want me to take you?" Bucky pushed himself back into him harder. "Tell me, Bucky. Tell me to take you."

Bucky growled low in his throat as his head lolled to the side, Steve groaned at the sensation and tightened his grip on the younger man’s hips. Bucky felt the blond’s warmth disappear for a moment and opened his mouth to protest, but Steve returned just as quickly, armed with a small bottle of lube. The click of the cap echoed in the open space before Bucky felt a slick finger brush against him. Steve circled the brunet’s entrance teasingly before beginning to push inside when Bucky whimpered impatiently. Steve sucked bruised onto his neck and shoulder as he slipped a second finger inside. He rotated his wrist to press his thumb against the brunet’s perineum and curled his fingers to milk his prostate. Bucky let his jaw go slack in an ‘o’ shape as a breathy moan fell from his lips in response to the blond’s actions. He continued his ministrations until the brunet was keening on three of Steve’s fingers. 

"Are you ready for me?" Steve's hand slid down Bucky’s front to wrap around the base of the brunet’s erection. The blond slowly pumped his fist over the younger man’s cock, closing his eyes as Bucky's breath caught and he leaned into Steve's touch. 

A low moan left Bucky's lips and he arched his body forward, causing his ass to press further against Steve. Withdrawing his fingers, Steve placed his hand between Bucky's shoulder blades and pushed the brunet gently down towards the counter, the tip of Steve's cock now pressing against Bucky's entrance. Gripping his hips, Steve pulled Bucky back onto him, both of them moaning breathily at the sensation as Steve carefully pushed inside of him.

Without warning, Bucky moved his hips forward and rocked back, once again taking Steve inside. The feeling was indescribable. Steve was completely surrounded by him. The younger man whimpered Steve's name and laid his head against the granite as Steve pulled out and thrust deeply back into him again.

Their bodies moved as one, pushing and pulling against each other, and Steve leaned forward to place kisses between Bucky's shoulder blades, along his spine. Bucky pushed his hips roughly back into him and Steve lifted his head to see Bucky watching their reflection in the polished stainless steel of the refrigerator door. Their eyes met, and Steve swore loudly at the sight. The blond could see himself thrusting in and out of him, the force causing Bucky's body to rock forward with each movement.

"Do you like that, Bucky?" Steve said to Bucky's reflection. The brunet groaned loudly and the sound went straight to Steve's dick. God, he loved Bucky's reaction to dirty talk.

"Oh, yes," Bucky answered breathily, their gazes never faltering as Steve continued to rock into him.

"Oh fuck," Steve cursed, his voice sounding hoarse and desperate. "You don't know how many times I've imagined this…imagined fucking you on every surface in my apartment. When I make you come, I'm going to take you back to my bed and do it all over again." The growing force inside him was building and Steve knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

"Touch me, Steve. I'm so close." Groaning loudly, Steve clenched his jaw, Bucky's words making it nearly impossible to hold off his impending climax. His hand slid down Bucky's body to the brunet’s cock and Steve clenched his eyes tightly as Steve's fingers wrapped around him and began pumping in time with his thrusts. He tightened his fist and swiped his thumb over the tip and within seconds he felt Bucky begin to tighten around his cock, Steve could feel himself slipping in and out of Bucky and the knowledge of how perfectly they fit together sent him over the edge.

"God, Bucky," Steve moaned as Bucky pressed himself back into him. Bucky's back arched and with one last loud cry, Bucky came hard around him and spurted over his fist. No longer needing to hold back Steve gripped Bucky's hips tightly and pulled him to his dick, Bucky's name leaving Steve's lips over and over as he came inside of him.

Bucky collapsed against the countertop and Steve leaned forward, his lips running up and down the younger man’s back, whispering Bucky's name. "It's never been like this for me before," Steve murmured as he placed his forehead against Bucky's damp skin. Steve wasn't sure if the words were meant for Bucky or himself but it felt so right to say them out loud. Once his breathing had calmed the blond slipped out of Bucky and turned him to face Steve. He looked deep into Bucky's blue eyes, and the thought of Bucky's leaving made him ache.

"Stay the night, Bucky." Placing Bucky's hands-on Steve's face, he placed his lips against Steve’s.

"I'm not going anywhere." Bucky murmured softly and Steve kissed him once more before pulling back to gaze at him. "Say it again, Bucky." Bucky knew exactly what the blond meant. Bending slightly at the knees, Steve lifted Bucky's body, smiling as he wrapped his legs around Steve. Bucky encircled his neck with his arms and Steve turned, carrying Bucky's towards his bedroom with any thoughts of dinner long forgotten.

“Sunt a ta," The brunet said quietly as Steve lowered Bucky to his bed. Steve looked at Bucky against his sheets, and Steve felt his chest expand. "You don't know how many times I've dreamed of seeing you here."

They lay facing each other in the darkness of Steve's room, the city outside his windows casting enough of a glow to see Bucky's face. Steve's hands toyed with the younger man’s hair as Bucky brushed his fingertips over Steve's rough jaw.

The moment was perfect and Steve was finally ready to talk to him.

"Bucky," Steve whispered, shivering as Bucky traced his thumb along the blond’s bottom lip.

"Hmm?"

He removed a hand from Bucky's hair and placed in on Bucky's waist, Steve's fingers brushing softly against his skin. "What do you want to do?" Steve paused, needing to clarify. "About this, about us?" Bucky's hand stilled momentarily before he placed it on Steve's hip.

"I don't know." Bucky's voice was a mere whisper and Steve pulled him closer to himself.

"I want to be with you, Bucky. Everything I said in Seattle is still true. I…" Emotion began to bubble up inside of him and Steve pulled the brunet even closer, somehow not being able to get close enough. Steve knew he was falling in love with him, but was he ready to say the words? More importantly, was Bucky ready to hear them? "I care for you so much, Bucky. I want to go to your house and sleep on your pillows. I want to know what color your towels are and if you put your toaster away after you use it. You're all I think about." He looked into Bucky's eyes and saw tears there. "Hey, don't cry."

"I'm not crying," Bucky lied, smiling as Steve's fingertips brushed away his tears. "I want you to know those things too. I love that you asked me to come here, and I want you to come to my house. But…" Bucky's voice trailed off and he glanced away. But? Steve's breath quickened and a sense of panic quickly took hold. "But can it just be ours for a while? Just the two of us?" Relief flooded through him as Steve registered what he'd said. Bucky wanted him Bucky just wanted it to be theirs for a while. Steve could handle that. They could keep it quiet and continue to see each other, and Bucky could still work for him. They were both adults. It would work. There was no reason it shouldn't.

He couldn't keep from smiling as Steve closed the distance between them and kissed Bucky's lips. "Yes. It can be ours, for as long as you want." Steve kissed him again and pulled away.

The moment their lips touched, Steve's body began to stir. "I want you again," he whispered into Bucky's mouth. Bucky moaned softly in return, deepening their kiss while the blond’s hand moved from Bucky's waist to his thigh. Steve traced small circles along Bucky's skin before lifting his leg and hitching it up on Steve's hip, aligning their bodies perfectly. Steve rocked against him, Steve's cock moving easily against Bucky’s own growing erection. His hand moved between their bodies to wrap around both of their dicks, jerking them slowly. Their hands were free to explore, their mouths free to kiss. Steve felt connected to Bucky in every way possible. Being with Bucky's like this was better than any fantasy he'd come up with.

Every day it felt like Steve experienced something new with Bucky. He'd thought he'd been in love before, but he'd never felt this all-consuming force like if Bucky walked away from him he'd never be whole again. Steve held Bucky's face in his hand and kissed him reverently, hoping to tell Bucky with his body all the words Steve couldn't say aloud.

His eyes closed and Steve's name fell from Bucky's lips, his voice growing more urgent with every sweep of Steve's mouth or a touch of Steve's hand. The pleasure of being pressed against Bucky and the slide of their cocks had been building slowly; each rhythmic movement pushed them further and brought them closer.

"Steve," Bucky said his name quietly, but so full of emotion that it made Steve's chest ache.

"I'm here, baby. I'm not letting go." Steve tightened his hold on him, not sure who needed the reassurance more. Bucky slid his free hand down to where the blond’s rested on Bucky's hip and Steve pulled him closer, the power of being joined with Bucky in such an intimate way ready to consume them both. Their open mouths drifted together, close but never touching. Their muscles trembled, their bodies rocked, but no words were said as they came together in a powerful silence.

He closed the distance between their lips and kissed Bucky deeply, each of them holding on to the other as they came back down from their high. Steve couldn't believe how much the younger man had come to mean to him. Bucky held Steve's heart in his hand, and the blond wanted so badly to tell him. Steve sat up slightly and pulled the blankets over them before returning to him. Bucky smiled and sighed deeply, his eyes drifting closed. Steve ran his nose against the soft skin below Bucky's ear, attempting to memorize the smell and feel of him. The brunet’s breaths deepened and evened out and Steve knew that he was asleep. Brushing Steve's lips once more across Bucky's skin, he pulled Bucky tightly to him.

The knowledge that Bucky couldn't hear him allowed him to say what Steve desperately wanted to.

"I think I'm in love with you."

\---

Steve awoke the next morning to the feel of fingers running softly through his hair. He sighed with contentment and pulled Bucky closer as memories of last night flooded through his mind. Steve loved him.

His eyes opened suddenly and Steve looked up, shocked to see Bucky watching him.

"Morning," Bucky said softly as he continued to play with Steve's hair.

"Morning," Steve replied with a broad smile. Bucky stayed. Pulling himself up Bucky's body he placed a kiss on Bucky's lips. "Thank you, Bucky," Steve whispered, before reclaiming his spot on Bucky's bare chest.

He exhaled softly before answering, "You're welcome." Steve closed his eyes and let it all sink in. Bucky hadn't run this morning, Bucky was still here. They laid there quietly for a few minutes before Steve spoke.

"Would you like to shower with me?"

"Actually, I wanted to make you breakfast. Would that be okay?"

He looked up at Bucky's and placed his chin on the brunet’s chest.

"I would love breakfast, Bucky." Bucky smiled widely and Steve moved up again to kiss him. Steve wanted to start every day like this.

Eventually, they got up, and Steve headed for the shower while Bucky went to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, showered and changed, Steve walked out. His heart nearly stopped as Steve saw Bucky standing over his stove, ladling batter onto a hot griddle, in a pair of briefs. The mess from last night had been cleaned up, and Steve walked up behind him, placing his arms around Bucky's waist.

"You didn't have to clean up." Steve kissed his neck gently, smiling against Bucky's skin at the sound of his soft moan.

"I wanted to," Bucky answered. "Now go sit down, and I'll bring this to you." Steve chuckled and kissed the brunet once more before walking away and taking a seat at the dining room table. Steve was looking at the paper when Bucky walked in with a plate of pancakes, a cup of coffee, and a bottle of syrup in his hands. Bucky carefully placed everything on the table and then surprised Steve by straddling his lap.

"Now this is what I call breakfast," Steve laughed, placing his hands on the younger man’s hips. Bucky smiled and leaned forward, his lips lingering on the blond’s.

"I agree." Bucky's lips were soft before they parted and he lifted a fork full of pancakes to Steve's mouth. Bucky continued to feed him as Steve stole kisses between bites, groaning at the taste of syrup on Bucky's lips. Steve's hands moved to Bucky's thighs.

"I'd like to lay you down on my table and pour that syrup all over you," Steve whispered against his lips.

"Hmm, I don't know. You'd get all sticky and you've already showered," Bucky teased.

"Oh, I think it'd be worth it." Bucky laughed against his mouth and Steve felt his affection for Bucky grow. Steve never thought it would be so easy to be with him.

Steve’s cell phone began ringing but he ignored it, not willing to let the outside world intrude. The only person Steve wanted to talk to was sitting right here with him.

"Bucky, will you teach me how to say something in Romanian?" The brunet pulled away slightly and looked at Steve in surprise.

"Of course," Bucky answered, thrilled that he asked. "What did you want to know?" The blond reached down and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"This," Steve said quietly, suddenly nervous. The younger man looked at Steve for a moment, before taking the small piece of paper from his hand.

With you I'm finally home.

His eyes flew to Steve’s as the meaning of those words hit him. Did he-was Steve saying what he thought he was? 

"Oh, Steve," the brunet whispered, knowing he would never forget this moment. Looking up Bucky slid his hand into his blond hair, his thumb brushing gently against Steve’s cheek. "Cu tine sunt în sfârșit acasă." Bucky said the words slowly, Steve's gaze never leaving his.

"Cu tine…sunt în...sfârșit acasă? " Steve asked nervously.

"Perfect." Bucky smiled and the blond cradled Bucky’s face in his hands and kissed him gently, hoping to convey every ounce of love Steve felt for him. Their mouths moved perfectly together. Steve never wanted to let him go. They broke apart moments later, Bucky's hand lifting to caress Steve's jaw.

"Steve," Bucky began, only to be interrupted by a loud pounding on Steve's door. Their eyes met, panic evident in both their expressions.

"Steve!" Tony’s booming voice carried to them from the hallway, followed by another round of knocks. "Steve, I know you're in there, asshole, I heard your cell phone ringing. I'm not leaving until you open this door."


	15. Never Leave

"Steve!"

Bucky's breath caught in his throat and he met the blond’s wide eyes. This couldn't be happening. Another round of knocks caused him to jump as Tony’s fist collided with the apartment door.

"Steve, I know you're in there, asshole, I heard your cell phone ringing. I'm not leaving until you open this door."

Bucky cringed at the look of sheer panic stretching Steve's features. How was it that just a few hours ago, everything had been perfect? Fear seized him, constricting Bucky's chest, and he realized he needed more time. Bucky thought he'd known what people finding out would entail. He'd always known that somehow this day would come, but it seemed like a vague image off in the future. Bucky wasn't ready yet.

"He means it." Steve's voice brought him back and Bucky met his eyes. The tension in his body was evident from the way his fingers dug almost painfully into Bucky's hip. He looked terrified. Taking his face between Bucky's palms, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips lightly to his. His eyes closed and Bucky felt him relax slightly beneath him.

"It'll be fine. I'll just step into your room and wait while you talk to him. Okay?"

"But, Bucky. I don-"

Bucky cut him off before he could finish."It's fine, Steve. Really."

Steve was silent for a moment as a series of different emotions crossed his face and with a resigned sigh, he nodded and helped the brunet off his lap. Turning to walk away, Bucky was stopped as warm fingers wrapped around his forearm and pulled him back to Steve. He dipped his head, his mouth colliding with Bucky’s. His kiss was hungry, full of the need and desperation they each felt. Tony's persistent knocking and the ringing of Steve's cell phone on the table faded into the background as Bucky lost himself in him. His strong arms encircled the brunet tightly, and Bucky felt himself being lifted slightly off the floor. The kiss slowly changed into something more controlled. They slowly pulled apart, the blond’s eyes remained closed as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"Do you remember what you asked me last night?" Bucky knew without thinking what Steve was referring to: keeping it theirs.

"Yes," Bucky whispered softly.

"I promise. My answer is yes, as long as you want. Just remember that." Guilt pulled at Bucky's stomach, and he wondered if Steve was only doing this for him.

"I don't un-" Bucky started, only to be cut off by another round of banging and Tony's now obviously annoyed voice.

"I swear to God, Steve. I can hear your shit phone, and you never even go to the bathroom without that thing."

Stepping away, Bucky nodded and crossed the apartment to the master bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Bucky's breaths were quickened and seemed to be amplified by the stillness of the apartment.

Pressing his ear to the door, Bucky closed his eyes and listened. He heard a shuffling followed by the metal click of a lock being released, and Bucky held his breath at the sound of the door opening.

Silence. Why was it so quiet?

"What the fuck do you want, Tony? It's Sunday morning." Steve's tone was clipped and laced with anger as he addressed him.

"Don't you fucking take that tone with me, asshole. You think I haven't noticed that you've been avoiding me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Tony." Bucky heard slight movement, but he struggled to hear the source.

"James."

The silence that followed sent chills up and down Bucky's spine.

"What about him?" Steve's voice had changed, and the tone Bucky recognized as that of ‘Mr. Rogers’ now filtered through the door. Bucky felt a prickle of sweat break out across his forehead as he listened to that familiar sound.

"Don't play stupid with me, Steve. I know something's going on between you."

"And what exactly would that be? He's my employee and I'm his boss. Nothing more."

Bucky closed his eyes as a wave of nausea washed over him. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

"Well, that's the way it should be, but somehow I don't think that's the way it is."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Steve repeated again.

Bucky heard Tony scoff, or at least he thought it was Tony.

"I never thought you'd be this stupid, Steve."

"Tony, if you have something to say, then fucking say it and get the hell out."

"I think you're seeing James."

Steve didn't miss a beat.

"You're wrong."

"Am I?"

"Yes, Tony. You're wrong. Mr. Barnes and I have nothing more than a professional relationship."

Bucky's eyes closed at the word "relationship". His voice was cool, and Bucky could tell even from behind the door that the blond was commanding the room. Bucky wasn't surprised, but as he searched Steve’s voice for a trace of regret, it hurt to find none.

"Do you think I'm that stupid? I know how you two were together. I've never seen two people who hated each other more. I watched you act like a complete asshole to him every day for almost a year and then all of a sudden, you're ogling him like a starving man looks at a piece of meat. I think something happened while you two were in Seattle and that's why you were avoiding my calls. I also think you were texting him yesterday."

Bucky couldn't let him do this alone. He placed his hand on the knob and turned it slightly.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You can go now, Tony."

"So, what? You're just fucking him then? Because I will kick the shit out of you for taking advantage of him like that."

"It's not like that." For the first time, Bucky heard a hint of hesitancy slip into Steve's voice and he wondered if he was speaking to Tony or himself.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Steve? Either you are or you aren't."

"Holy shit, Tony! How many times do I need to tell you there's nothing going on? Do you really think I'm that stupid? He means nothing to me!"

Bucky's hand fell from the door and he stepped back, the sound of his words echoing in his ears. A flash of pain ripped through his chest and the brunet closed his eyes, feeling the sudden need to sit down. Bucky's rational mind understood why Steve said it, but every fear in his heart was reinforced by his words. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bucky closed his eyes tightly as he tried to suppress the forming tears. Steve doesn't mean it. This is what he asked him to do.

It was silent for a moment on the other side before Tony spoke.

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, but in a firm tone.

"Look, man. I'm sorry about this. I just…I thought…never mind. Fuck. I know you wouldn't lie to me, I should have known better."

An uncomfortable silence filled the apartment. Bucky was aware of the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the ticking from the clock in the living room. Everything seemed so still, only amplifying the guilt Bucky felt inside. The sound of a cell phone from the other side of the door broke the silence, as Bucky's familiar ringtone filled the apartment.

Oh, God.

"Steve, your phone's in your hand, so whose just rang in the kitchen?" Tony asked in a confused voice. Bucky held his breath and it seemed as if hours passed in the seconds that followed before he answered.

"It's not what you think."

"Wait, is someone here?" Bucky's heart was literally pounding out of his chest as he waited to be caught.

"God, Steve, why didn't you say you had someone here and tell me to shut the fuck up?"

Bucky heard him laugh softly. "Yeah, why didn't I think of that?" His voice was quiet and Bucky had to strain to hear him. They spoke in hushed tones for a few moments and Bucky stood up, quickly redressing himself fully, thankful he had remembered to bring it in there that morning. The sound of a door closing was followed by a soft knock.

"Bucky?" Crossing the room, Bucky quickly opened the door and gave him a forced smile before returning to the bed and slipping on Bucky's shoes.

"Hey," Steve started hesitantly, propping himself against the door frame. "You know why I said all that, don't you?"

"What? Oh, of course, I do. Don't worry about it," Bucky answered, doing his best to convince them both.

He stared at the brunet for a moment as Bucky gathered his things.

"Then where are you going?"

"Oh…I…uh, forgot I have this thing…with Natasha this morning," Bucky replied, waving Bucky's hand dismissively.

"It's nothing really, just something I forgot about until I heard her ringtone out there. Sorry about that, by the way."

Bucky stood and walked towards the doorway, still avoiding his gaze. Steve’s scent washed over him as Bucky brushed by him, his shoulder coming into contact with Bucky's own.

"Look at me."

The agonized tone of his voice halted the younger man in his tracks and Bucky turned slowly, watching as he approached.

"We're okay, right?" Steve’s right hand came up and held Bucky's face gently, his thumb tracing soft circles across his skin.

"Of course we are." Bucky nodded and leaned in, lightly pressing Bucky's mouth to his. Bucky breathed him in, trying to soothe the doubt that had been sparked inside me. A low moan escaped his lips, and he gripped me tighter.

"I want to see you again tonight," he whispered against Bucky's mouth. "My bed will feel so empty without you in it." Bucky's stomach fluttered at his words. "Please, Bucky."

"You don't fight fair," Bucky whispered as the blond’s hands moved to his hair.

"As long as it gets me you, I don't care." Steve’s lips brushed against his softly and Bucky realized once again that despite the battle between his head and his heart, or how much it would hurt in the end, Bucky was Steve’s.

Pulling away slightly, Bucky looked into his eyes. "I have to go." Steve nodded and led him to the door, retrieving Bucky's phone from the kitchen. A wisp of the earlier tension crackled between them as they stood awkwardly at the door.

"You're sure we're okay?" His finger gently tilted the brunet’s chin up so they could meet eyes, confusion evident in his eyes." I know what that must have sounded like and I-"

Bucky placed his finger over his mouth to silence the blond.

"We're fine," Bucky answered quietly, willing himself to hold it together just a bit longer. He kissed Steve once more and opened the door into the hall. Without waiting for a response, Bucky started towards the elevator. Stepping inside, he pressed the button and looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway watching him. His expression was confused, and Bucky pulled together a smile for him just as the doors closed.

Finally, within the privacy of the lift, Bucky pulled out his cell phone and pressed send.

"Natasha?" Bucky began, as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

A few hours and a pint of Double Fudge Brownie later, Bucky sat with his head on Nat's lap as she stroked his hair. The crying had stopped and only the occasional sniffle remained. He'd tried to tell her everything over the phone, but after informing him that she wasn't fluent in blubbering, she met him at Bucky's apartment.

"Okay, Bucky," she began softly and Bucky's eyes drifted closed as her soothing actions calmed him. "I'm confused. The last conversation we had you said this was just sex, no big deal. What the hell happened?"

"I just…I love him, Nat," Bucky whispered, shaking his head. His heart rate sped up as Bucky realized this was the first time he'd ever vocalized it.

"You love him?" she questioned, the shock evident in her voice. "When did this happen?"

"I don't know. Seattle? Maybe before." The brunet turned his head and looked out the window, watching the trees sway in the breeze.

"Bucky, I'm confused. I thought you two hated each other?"

"I don't know. Everything's different, he's different. It's like the man I thought I knew doesn't exist."

Taking a deep breath, Bucky told her everything. He explained to her that first night in Seattle, the way they fought and the things they'd confessed. Bucky told her about their week together, the night at the pool, the day he was sick and how much it hurt to leave him at the airport. Finally, Bucky told her about being with him last night, the way Steve made him feel, how close the brunet had been to telling Steve that he loved him and what had happened this morning. To say she was shocked would be an understatement.

"Bucky, I understand why you're upset, honey. But you're in love," she said, smiling. "This isn't a bad thing. So maybe the situation isn't perfect, but whose is?"

"Nat," Bucky began, sitting up to face her. "It's not that simple. This isn't about a busy schedule or not wanting to be with him. I feel like everything is against us. I work for him. Without even touching on the fact that technically, we should both be fired, I've been lying to people I love, people I respect, who've taken me in like family." Bucky shook his head in disgust as he recalled that morning.

"I'm a grown man and this morning I hid in his bedroom while he lied to Tony for me. I knew what he needed to say, but it just hurt so fucking bad to actually hear the words." Bucky's voice trailed off and he looked away, unable to stand the pity he saw in her eyes.

"But Bucky, what if he does love you? He was only doing what you asked him to."

"Let's say for argument's sake that Steve did love me, then what? I fucked my boss, Nat. I don't want to be known as that guy. You know, there was someone the year I started that had an affair with one of the executives. They were both reprimanded and the case closed, but it was never over for her. It's been years now, but whenever someone brings her up, they always refer to her as 'the one who slept with her boss.'"

"Okay, then let's start looking for a solution. What if you left before anyone found out? Worked for someone else?"

"No," Bucky protested instantly.

"And why not?" she asked, a bewildered expression on her face. Bucky stood and walked to his dresser, needlessly rearranging the pictures and objects on the surface of the top.

"Because," Bucky answered, knowing how childish that sounded.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need something a bit more solid than 'because' Bucky."

"Well," Bucky started. "For one, I really love my job. I'm good at what I do and I know it. I've worked really hard to build the trust they have in me."

"Okay…Bucky, you sound like you're telling me about your resume, not why you won't sacrifice to be with the man you love."

"And…I guess I worry that it will change. That without this, we'll change. It will fade or be different. And I'm terrified of what will happen when I don't see him every day."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I don't know," Bucky began, still trying to put his thoughts together. "Natasha? Have you ever known him to have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Any significant other?"

"No, but then I don't know as much about him as you do. Why?"

"When I was in Seattle, I went out to dinner with a couple of friends I usually see at these things, and I asked them." Bucky looked over his shoulder to see her watching him.

"And?"

"They said there was someone. Her name was Lorraine and apparently they were together for a long time. Everyone thought they would get married and then one day it was over and he ended up back in New York. Nobody knows why."

"And what? People break up all the time. Everyone has past relationships. Why does his bother you?"

"It's just that the way we started didn't allow for any of that my past-his past talk. And here we are, with all these feelings and I have no idea if we're even on the same page. Like, I didn't even hear about his ex-girlfriend from him, I heard it through the grapevine. How serious can we be if we haven't even had that talk yet? And I can't explain it, but for some reason, I get the feeling that it's important."

"Well," she began, standing from the bed. "We'll ask Pepper tomorrow at lunch." Bucky turned quickly to Natasha, watching her eyes widen as she saw the brunet’s expression. "Bucky? What is it?"

"Oh God, Nat. He'd forgotten all about Pepper. I haven't seen her since…well, since the last time."

Dropping on the bed, Bucky put his head in his hands, remembering the look on Pepper's face as the bathroom door opened.

"Calm down, Bucky. Shit. Look, she obviously didn't tell Tony or he wouldn't have given up this morning. Maybe she's on your side?" Bucky groaned into his hands in response. "Well, you said he believed Steve, right?"

"I guess," he answered unenthusiastically.

"So there you go. If his wife had told him that she actually caught you two in the act, I don't think he would have listened."

"She didn't catch us in the act, Nat."

"You know what I mean." Taking Bucky's hands in hers, Natasha sat next to him on the bed, a determined expression on her face. "I'm just going to put my two cents in and be done. I know you're scared, Bucky, and I understand that. But what if? What if Steve does love you? I know it might be hard, but it could also be great." Bucky listened to her words and felt a familiar, albeit distant spark of hope flicker in his chest.

"You need to ask yourself if he's worth taking that chance for. Don't you think Steve might be worth it?"

\---

Later that night, with Natasha's words still fresh on his mind, Bucky exited the elevator and slowly made his way down the hall to Steve's apartment. Bucky knew in his heart that Natasha was right, but that didn't make it any easier. Was Bucky ready to tell him? This was still so new and he wanted to be able to enjoy it a bit longer before letting in the rest of the world and their opinions. As Bucky continued down the hall, he felt his body relax with every step he took toward Steve’s apartment. Just as before, it seemed to know what Bucky needed long before his head figured it out.

Within seconds of knocking, the door was open and Bucky was in the blond’s arms. "God, I missed you."

Bucky felt his words as Steve’s lips brushed against his hair and he couldn't help how they made him smile. Pressing Bucky's face into his chest, he inhaled deeply, greedily taking in his scent.

"I missed you, too," Bucky said, pulling back slightly to peer up into his face. God, he was beautiful.

"Come on," he suggested, pulling the brunet further in and shutting the door behind them. "I made dinner, and the movie is ready to go."

Bucky smiled and followed him into the kitchen, unable to stop himself from admiring the way his jeans sat low on Steve’s hips and remembering how the soft skin there felt under Bucky's fingertips. They entered the familiar kitchen, and Bucky bit his lip to suppress a smile as his mind drifted back to the last time they were there. Dinner looked wonderful, and he didn't object Steve handed him a plate full of food with a quick kiss.

"Steve, this looks amazing. You certainly don't cook like a typical bachelor." Bucky inhaled deeply. It smelled better than it looked, and his mouth watered. Steve dished up his own plate and took Bucky's hand.

"Well, there are many things I like to do in the kitchen, Bucky," he answered with a smirk. Bucky rolled his eyes as he continued. They sat down next to each other on the couch, and he started the movie. The opening credits of Rear Window began. Realizing Steve had remembered Bucky's favorite movie, he looked up at him with a smile. Steve laughed and pulled the brunet against his side, his arm draping across Bucky's shoulder. They finished eating and as the movie played, they drifted closer. Bucky turned towards him, his head on the blond’s chest, Bucky's leg across his and his arm resting on Steve’s stomach. Bucky's fingers drew lazy circles across his abdomen and he smiled as he felt the muscles clench under Bucky's touch. His chin sat atop Bucky's head and every once in a while something warm would press against Bucky's hair.

At some point, Bucky fell asleep and awoke to find Steve placing him gently into his bed. His warm body slipped in beside the brunet, and Bucky turned into him; drawn into the feel of his warm, bare skin pressed against his own. Bucky's lips brushed against his chest and his arms encircled him tightly. "Steve," Bucky whispered into the darkness.

"Shhh. I'm right here, baby. Just go back to sleep." His voice was deep and soothing and Bucky snuggled into him more, feeling safe and wanted and the happiest he'd ever been in his life. For the first night, since this whole thing started, Steve and Bucky simply held each other and fell asleep in one another's arms.

\---

When Monday morning dawned, it brought with it the realization of what today would mean.

Today, Bucky would sit at the same desk he'd sat at for almost a year, speak to the same people, but everything would be different.

Bucky would watch Steve walk in and head towards his office, knowing what happened between them there, but unsure of how it would fit in. Bucky would know what it felt like to feel him naked against him, to feel his tender touches and hear whispered words of affection, but have to keep it all hidden. Would Steve look at him the same? Touch Bucky when they were alone?

Would he call him Bucky?

Bucky slipped out from underneath him and placed a kiss on his lips, knowing he needed to get home. Steve stirred and mumbled Bucky's name, his arms searching out to find him before gripping a pillow and rolling onto his stomach. Bucky swept his blond hair from his face and leaned in to place one last kiss against his shoulder before setting the alarm on his cell phone, and typing a little note about where he'd gone.

Despite everything, Bucky smiled as he left his apartment and headed to the parking garage.

A few hours later Bucky sat at his desk with Natasha, attempting to make some sort of sense out of the mess that the various temps had left for him. The office door opened and Steve walked in. Bucky's breath caught and he had to quickly compose himself as Bucky watched him enter in his black suit, unable to ignore the way the fabric accentuated his long, muscular body.

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers," Natasha and Bucky said in unison.

"Did you have a nice time in Seattle, Mr. Rogers?" Natasha questioned, pivoting herself in her chair to face him. Bucky bit his lip to keep from smiling as Steve looked from her to him.

"Yes. I had a wonderful time, Ms. Romanoff. It was very…enlightening," he answered smoothly, his eyes lingering on Bucky. "Mr. Barnes, may I speak to you in my office for a moment?"

"Of course," Bucky replied coolly. He stood and glanced at Natasha. "I'll be right back."

Shaking her head, she smiled and mouthed the words "good luck," before returning her attention to the folders spread out on the desk. Steve waited, holding his office door for the younger man, meeting Bucky's gaze as he preceded him inside. The moment the door clicked softly behind them Steve grabbed him, his lips hungrily searching out his.

"You left," he whispered as his mouth moved down Bucky's neck. "I don't want you to do that again."

"I left you a note," Bucky answered breathily, his eyes practically rolling back into his head as he moved to the front of Bucky's dress shirt.

"Yes. I found your little note, tease." Bucky stifled a laugh as he remembered what he had added along with his explanation. "You're not allowed to leave me in the morning without waking me up and kissing me goodbye, deal?" He pulled away slightly and their eyes met, the seriousness of his expression surprising Bucky.

"Deal."

"Good, and since I don't remember my goodbye kiss, you'd better give it to me now." Bucky smiled as he leaned in to kiss him, his grey eyes closing as his soft lips pressed against Steve’s. He kissed the brunet tenderly before pulling away and looking into Bucky's eyes. "Bucky," he whispered before cradling Bucky's face in his hands and bringing his mouth to his once again. Bucky's lips parted and he moaned softly as the blond’s tongue slipped inside, the familiar feel of him making me forget that they were in his office and Natasha was right outside the door. His hands slipped from Bucky's face, down his shoulders and along his back to his dress pants, cupping his ass. He pulled Bucky to him and groaned, pressing his forehead to the brunet’s.

"Have lunch with me today."

"I can't. I'm having lunch with Pepper and Natasha." Steve lifted his head and looked at him.

"Pepper?" he questioned. Bucky nodded and he shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Bucky."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. Everything will be fine." Steve nodded but seemed unconvinced.

Bucky was about to respond when the phone in the outer office rang. "I need to get back," he added, leaning in to kiss him again. Steve returned it and watched him leave, a strange expression on his face.

The day turned out to be busier than Bucky expected and before he knew it, the outer door opened and Pepper walked in. The drive to the restaurant was slightly awkward, and Bucky hoped he might get out of having to talk to her about what happened until Pepper broke the silence.

"I need to apologize." Bucky turned to her in disbelief. "I know, I know, shocking." She sighed deeply and looked as if she were still formulating what she wanted to say. "Bucky, I'm very protective of my family and friends, but…even I can admit that I may have overreacted. I still don't agree with what you two were doing… or should I say where you were doing it…" She paused, seemingly grossed out for a moment but soon recovered. "But you're both adults, and it's really none of my business."

Bucky smiled at her, silently accepting her apology.

"I'm assuming though that it's over?" She looked at me questioningly. Shit. Bucky swallowed loudly and tried to formulate a believable response.

"I knew it," she said shaking her head.

"Knew what?" Bucky asked uncomfortably.

"I love my husband, but he can be such an idiot sometimes. You were in Steve's apartment yesterday, weren't you?"

Bucky looked down, debating lying, before deciding to just stick with the truth.

"Yes," Bucky answered.

"Huh," was her only response. Bucky waited for her to say something else, but she didn't. They drove in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Bucky's stomach churned and he was grateful he hadn't eaten today.

"You two aren't very good at hiding it, you know."

"I'm sorry, Pepper. You have no idea how badly I feel about lying to everyone."

"I just don't understand, James. All this," she said, motioning with her hands. "For sex? I mean, the sex can't be so amazing that you'd risk your job, not to mention your reputation."

All it took was that slight hesitation, that one minor change of Bucky's expression as he met Pepper's eyes, and it was clear that she knew.

"James," she sighed heavily and shook her head. She ran her hands through her long hair and leaned back against the seat. "How did I know this would happen?" She spoke quietly, more to herself than him and Bucky suddenly found himself wanting to confide in her.

"I have no idea," Bucky answered, as he watched the buildings pass by.

"I just… Don't get me wrong, I love Steve…" she trailed off and Bucky could see her struggling with the loyalty to her friendships.

"Pepper, who's Lorraine?" Bucky blurted out, surprising even himself.

"Oh boy. Why couldn't this conversation have happened at the restaurant with alcohol," she replied, shaking her head with a soft chuckle. "Okay, where to begin?" Bucky watched her intently, practically holding his breath waiting for her response.

"Lorraine was Steve's girlfriend for a long time and as far as everyone knew, they were the real deal. She was a model and Steve was this gorgeous playboy-they were in every magazine, attended every fancy event, the perfect couple. In short, they were all waiting for the envelope in the mail telling us where to show up for the wedding. So one day, Tony comes in with this really serious look on his face and I kind of freaked. I mean, Tony never looks like that. It turns out, Lorraine told Steve that she wanted more. She wanted that wedding and a house and kids and he just… broke it off. Before they knew it, there was a blurb in the company newsletter that Steve was coming home and you were going to be his new assistant."

Bucky watched as Pepper looked at him, waiting for some type of response. Bucky nodded slowly, appearing on the outside to be calm and collected, but inside his thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Bucky's heart pounded in his chest as Bucky thought of that poor girl whom he couldn't help but relate to on some level and admire. To have the courage to tell him she wanted to build a life together and in turn have him walk away and leave her.

"James?"

He turned to Pepper, instantly aware that she could see Bucky's internal struggle. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," Bucky answered, trying to clear his head. “I think I already knew it was something like that."

"Do you love him?"

From Bucky's peripheral vision he saw her turn towards him. Bucky felt lightheaded and could only manage a nod in response.

"And does he love you?"

Did he love me?

"I…I don't know. I don't know if it's like that for him," Bucky answered, his fingers tracing over the nobs on his watch. "I know he cares for me, but he's never said the words."

"I don't want you to misunderstand me. I’ve seen him with Lorraine. He loved her, James. I saw it, they all did, but it…somehow, it wasn't enough. He's a wonderful man and capable of so much love- I just don't want to see you get hurt." She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I saw her a couple of months after he left and she was a total mess. She never saw it coming. I…" she trailed off and Bucky felt goosebumps spread across his skin. He'd never once seen Pepper at a loss for words.

"I just don't want to see you risk everything for a man who may never want the same things." She spoke slowly, considering each word as she said it, and Bucky felt his heart sink with every word.

Bucky's hands were trembling slightly, and he clasped them in his lap. Was she telling him anything Bucky didn't already know? The details were new, but the sentiment wasn't. She was basically confirming everything Bucky had feared at some point or another, that what they had was wonderful but wouldn't really be enough to hold him. He'd asked Steve to keep this between them for Bucky, but he'd never resisted or given any indication that he wanted people to know. He'd never hinted at wanting the brunet to switch positions so they could have more.

He was fine with hiding.

"I understand, Pepper," Bucky answered dully as they pulled up to the restaurant. She watched him worriedly as she shut off the engine. "Don't worry, you haven't told me anything I didn't already know. I'll be careful." Bucky gave her a reassuring smile and she reached over to squeeze Bucky's hand before climbing out.

All through lunch Bucky went through the motions; responding when questioned, laughing when necessary, but never really participating. Bucky's head was swimming with everything Pepper had said. Bucky knew she was right. She basically warned him that Bucky was headed for heartbreak, but hadn't he known that already? Bucky loved Steve and wanted him, and regardless of the warning bells that had been sounding all day, Bucky knew he couldn't stay away.

Was this what happened when you were truly in love? Did you stop listening to reason and push forth regardless of the outcome?

\---

They were just finishing up lunch when Bucky's phone vibrated. Pepper and Natasha were looking through a sample catalog and didn't notice Bucky's surprised expression when he saw a text from Steve.

‘Wanted to know when you're coming back.’

Bucky couldn't keep the smile from his lips as he read. Bucky glanced up at Pepper, but she was deep in conversation with Natasha. Bucky was tired of fighting this. Keeping his heart from Steve now proved as difficult as keeping his body from him had been in the beginning. Exhaling deeply, Bucky decided to push aside all his doubts for now and just enjoy this.

‘Oh you do, do you?’

‘Yes, and I also wanted to know what you're doing tonight.’

Bucky took a deep breath, thinking back on what he'd said. Steve wanted to come to his apartment, and dammit, Bucky wanted him there. He'd had more fantasies of seeing Steve in Bucky's bed than he cared to acknowledge. Bucky also knew that by having the blond over he was making a decision. Once Bucky saw him there, Steve would never leave. Regardless of where he was physically, Steve would always be there.

‘Hmm. I was hoping to have a gorgeous man over for dinner.’

‘Do I know this gorgeous man? Because if I don't Imay have to object.’

Bucky stifled a laugh as he considered his response. They’d done nothing but sleep last night and Bucky knew that if Steve came over tonight, sleeping would not be on the plan. Bucky typed his response and chewed his lower lip, debating on whether or not to send it. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Bucky pressed the green button.

‘I think you do. Tall, sexy, cock like a work of art, makes me come like I've never come before.’

A full minute passed without a response and Bucky wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. When his phone vibrated again, Bucky practically pounced on it.

‘Shit, Bucky. What time?’

Bucky smiled, feeling slightly empowered by his response. He could almost picture the way he would have closed his eyes and let his head fall back against his chair. Not to mention another reaction Bucky hopefully incited.

‘7.. Don't be late.’

‘I REALLY don't think that's gonna be a problem.’

Bucky giggled as he read his next text and heard a throat clear, glancing up to see he had gotten Natasha’s attention. Pepper was on her phone with Tony and Nat smiled at him, knowing who Bucky was texting without needing to ask. The brunet started to envision a plan for tonight, one where they were on his turf and Bucky was in charge.

‘Good. I don't want to have to punish you.’

‘Is it 7 yet?’

Bucky covered his mouth to hide his laughter, just as Pepper hung up and looked at him. They paid the bill and hugged goodbye, promising to see each other again soon. Bucky moved ahead to the door and typed a response to Steve while Natasha and Pepper exchanged a few final words.

A few more hours.

‘I'm counting down. I miss you already.’

The butterflies in Bucky's stomach leapt into action as he read Steve’s message.

‘I miss you too.’

‘I have to leave for a meeting, I want a kiss the minute I see you. Deal?’

"Ready?" Pepper asked as she met him near the door. Bucky looked at her and smiled genuinely for the first time all afternoon.

"I think I am," Bucky answered, surprising himself at how calm he felt. Pepper led the way to the car and Bucky messaged him one last time before heading back to the office.

‘Deal.’

\---

Because of traffic, Bucky walked into his apartment exactly fifteen minutes before Steve was due. Rushing to the bathroom, Bucky changed into some jeans and a t-shirt before fixing his hair slightly.

Dinner would have to be take-out. He pulled out the menus and began to go through them just as the doorbell rang. Bucky's heart quickened as he stood from the counter and walked to the door.

Peering through the peep-hole, the brunet swore silently. Steve stood with his hand in his hair, his suit jacket gone and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up past his elbows. The overhead lighting caught the shine of gold in his hair and cast him in a warm glow. Bucky took a deep breath knowing already there was no way that this man was going to spend any time here tonight outside of Bucky's bedroom.

He opened the door and without a word Steve approached him, placing a hand on each side of Bucky's face and pulling him in. The instant his parted lips touched the younger man’s, they both moaned. Bucky's senses were on overload and he was lost to everything but the man before him; his scent as it swirled around Bucky, the taste of Steve’s tongue as it slid against his own, the sounds falling from his lips and the hardness of his body as it pressed against him.

"Baby, I've been waiting for this all day." His words fanned moist air across Bucky's lips, and he pulled back slightly, needing to see Steve.

"Then why are you late?" Bucky asked with false severity. He looked at the brunet confused before glancing at his watch.

"What are you talking about? I'm not late. I texted you and said traffic was bad, it's only-" Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You're. Late." Bucky's words were clear and deliberate and he watched him, waiting for recognition to dawn. Play along, Steve.

"You're right. I am late. Didn't you say something about being punished?" he asked with a smirk, as the realization obviously took hold. Good boy.

"I did." Bringing his hand to Steve’s chest, Bucky watched as he ran his fingers slowly up and down the soft material of his shirt, feeling the hard muscle flex underneath his touch. Bucky brought his eyes back up to meet his baby blue ones, watching as the blond’s nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell with the increased force of his breathing. Gripping his tie in Bucky's hands, he wrapped it once around his fist, raising an eyebrow as a small moan escaped Steve. Twisting it around once more, Bucky tugged, pulling Steve forward slightly.

"God, Bucky."

"Follow me." Bucky took a step backwards, pulling Steve with him and loving how he didn't seem to mind giving up control anymore. Bucky took another step and he followed willingly. Smiling to himself, Bucky turned slowly, holding his tie firmly over his shoulder as the brunet led the way to his bedroom.

"Sit," Bucky said as they entered, pointing to the bed. Steve did as he asked and Bucky watched as his eyes scanned the room.

"This looks just like I imagined," Steve said, his voice soft and slightly lower than normal.

"And how's that?" Bucky asked as he stood in the doorway, anxious and excited to hear that Steve had imagined his bedroom as Bucky had his. He ran his hands over the light grey and black-edged duvet.

"It looks like you. Sharp, masculine, sexy, refined; exactly how I imagined. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn't imagined it…a lot." He looked up at the brunet and anticipation encircled them. "I want you, Bucky. More than I've ever wanted anything. Undress for me."

Bucky's heart almost leapt from his chest and he felt the first flare of arousal at the words.

Shaking his head, he smiled coyly at Steve. "I don't think so. You're not the one in charge here tonight."

Without a word Steve stood, his hands moving to his tie, loosening the material before throwing it to the floor. Their eye contact never wavered as they stood across the room from each other, and the thought occurred to the brunet that he could either watch Steve undress or be naked together. Without a second thought, the latter won out.

Almost in unison, their hands came to the front of their shirts, unfastening the buttons and pulling the material from their bodies, the soft rustle of fabric falling to the floor echoing in the stillness of the room. Bucky bit his lip as Steve kicked off his shoes. His hands seemed to tremble slightly as they moved to the front of his pants, unzipping them slowly before sliding them down his hips. Steve had been naked in front of the brunet more times than he could count, but Bucky's own hands seemed unsteady as he began to work on his own belt.

"You're beautiful, Bucky."

Steve’s voice brought Bucky from his own insecurities, and Bucky pulled his belt loose from the loops of his jeans, setting it on his dresser. Bucky's hands moved to the zipper on his pants and he slid it down, the sound of the metal teeth bringing Steve’s attention back to Bucky's eyes.

There was something so erotic about undressing this way in front of each other and not being able to touch. Bucky's body literally ached to feel Steve’s hands on his skin. Slowly, the brunet slid the material of his jeans down his hips and kicked it away from himself.

"Come here, baby." Bucky took a deep breath and walked the few steps to where Steve stood, feeling drawn to him by some unseen force. Bucky knew that he had found the man he would love for the rest of his life, and his heart ached to tell him. Taking Bucky's face into his hands, Steve closed his eyes and placed his forehead against his. "You're everything I never knew to want. I wish I would have stopped fighting it." He looked into Bucky's eyes and what Bucky saw filled him with hope. "I wish I would have let you in sooner."

He leaned in and placed his lips against the younger man’s and Bucky's heart almost broke with the love he felt for Steve. Bucky wanted this and he would give up anything to have it for even just a little while. In that moment, Bucky pushed every doubt and worry about what could happen or what people would say and gave himself to Steve. Bucky was his anyway, even if he didn't know it yet.

Bucky pressed himself closer to him, sighing as he felt the warmth of Steve’s body against his bare skin. His tongue traced along Bucky's lower lip before slipping into his mouth, the familiar taste of Steve causing his knees to shake slightly. His hand twisted into Bucky's hair, pulling him towards him while the other ghosted down Bucky's side along his ribs. Bucky shivered as his gentle touch ignited the nerve endings along his skin. His thumb moved to brush over the younger man’s nipple.

"So perfect," Steve whispered, increasing the pressure of his touch. Bucky brushed his cheek lightly along the blond’s angled jaw, loving the way the rough texture felt against his skin. Moving slowly down his neck, Bucky smiled as he moaned, feeling the vibration against his lips. Following the path downward, he continued to kiss and taste Steve’s skin.

With a tug of Bucky's hair, Steve brought his mouth back to his own and kissed him deeply as Bucky's fingers traced the blond’s shoulders and chest, down his abs to wrap around his hardened cock. He pushed into Bucky's hands as he held him, the sounds he made spurring the brunet on.

"I love the way you feel in my hands," Bucky sighed against his lips, continuing to run his fingertips up and down his length. The air left Steve’s lungs and he rested his forehead against Bucky's shoulder, his whole body trembling against him. He squeezed Steve gently and he moaned, lifting his head to capture Bucky's mouth, taking his bottom lip between his and sucking lightly.

Gripping his hair, Bucky lowered his ear to his mouth. "I love the way you feel inside of me even more," Bucky murmured, smiling at the deep groan that filled the room.

"I need you, Bucky. Please don't make me wait," he pleaded breathlessly.

"No more waiting." Bucky barely recognized his voice as he pushed Steve back to the bed. His hands never left the brunet as he lay down, pulling him on top. The moment Bucky saw him against his pillows, something snapped. Bucky's body shook with the emotion that surged through him, as if the longing of every fantasy he'd had in the last nine months took hold in that single moment. Sitting up and straddling his hips, he lowered himself to connect their lips again. Bucky shifted to open the top drawer of his bedside table and rummage around until he found a bottle of lube. He returned to his original position and lifted himself before bringing his own slick fingers behind himself to tease his entrance. Steve’s pupils expanded further, darkening his eyes in arousal as Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed as he slipped a single finger inside himself. As he pushed a second finger inside himself after a moment, he felt Steve’s hand shift from his waist to wrap his fingers around the younger man’s erection. Bucky clenched his jaw and bit his lower lip as he scissored his fingers and brushed lightly along his prostate while Steve slowly pumped his fist.

It was not long before Bucky deemed he was ready and he lifted his body, positioning him against his entrance before slowly sinking down again. As he physically filled Bucky's body, Bucky felt whole for the first time since the day Steve stepped into his life.

"You were made for me, Bucky." His fingers slid from Bucky's nipple, to his sternum and down Bucky's abdomen to where Bucky held him firmly inside of him. "Do you feel that?" Steve’s fingers slipped along Bucky's ass and around the base of him, moving the slick moisture up and down between them. Bucky lifted his body and saw the blond’s jaw tighten as he watched himself become exposed before slipping back inside of him. "Oh God, do that again." His breath was ragged and he watched with an awed expression as Bucky moved his body over him again. "Fuck," he moaned, his head falling back against the pillows. "That's the most perfect thing I've ever seen, seeing you take me inside of you like that." Bucky moved again and he moaned loudly. "Bucky don't know how long… shit."

"Close your eyes then," Bucky whispered as he leaned over and placed a kiss on his chest. "And I don't think stamina has ever been your problem."

"Oh shit, Bucky. You can't say things like that to me right now." With his eyes closed tightly, he reached up over his head and gripped the headboard. Bucky's breath caught as he watched the way the movement flexed his arms and chest. Closing his eyes, Bucky rocked his hips slowly, and groaned, completely lost in the way their bodies fit together. An idea formed in Bucky's head and he arched his leg, lifting it over Steve’s chest to settle on the other side, spinning himself around so Bucky's back now faced him. He felt Steve tense beneath him and his hands gripped Bucky's hips.

"Fuck! What are you-" he trailed off as Bucky began to move on him, Bucky's head falling forward as the new angle created sensations along his prostate.

"You feel so good," Bucky said breathlessly. One of the blond’s hands moved to Bucky's back, caressing slowly up his spine. His hands worked in unison, one guiding Bucky's hips while the other gripped Bucky's shoulder, pulling him down onto Steve more forcefully.

They continued this way and Bucky noticed the sunlight change color, growing more golden as it moved across the wall until finally disappearing altogether. Steve’s hips began to rise up to meet the brunet’s; each movement becoming more frenzied, more unrestrained. Bucky leaned backward, placing his palms on either side of the blond to support himself as the intensity of their lovemaking threatened to engulf him. The world became muted and all Bucky's focus centered on the sensations within his body and the man giving them to him. Bucky listened as Steve’s breathing became gasps, his moans became pleas, and Bucky's name fell from his lips over and over.

In a rush of sudden movements, Bucky was on his stomach, Steve’s chest pressed against his back as he once again reclaimed him. He seemed to slide deeper and the change of positions had him pushing deliciously against Bucky’s prostate with every thrust.

"Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so damn good." His words were strained, his voice raspy as each thrust was punctuated with a deep groan. Bucky felt his damp forehead press against his shoulder. "God, it's like I can't get close enough."

"I- I know," Bucky whispered, knowing exactly what he meant. His need for Steve was never sated, his longing to be near him never soothed. Bucky wanted to consume him, to be consumed by Steve. Always.

Bucky's eyes closed, his cheek resting against the cool blankets. Steve’s hand fisted in Bucky's hair, forcing his head back as his mouth found Bucky's neck, each labored exhale sending waves of warm breath across Bucky's dampened skin. The blond kissed along his shoulders, his tongue reaching out to taste the younger man, his teeth nipping and dragging along Bucky's skin. Bucky arched his back, angling his hips to meet each thrust. Bucky's arms reached out, his hands twisting and tangling in the blankets, Bucky's body shaking with the need to let go.

Steve's hand moved up Bucky's arm, his fingers entwining tightly with his. Bucky shivered as his free hand brushed up and down his side, stopping to grip Bucky's hip and control his movements. The brunet felt Steve’s lips trace down his neck and across his shoulders. Steve shuddered above him, his body trembling as if in surrender, and whispered, almost too quietly for Bucky to hear.

"I love you, Bucky." Bucky's body stiffened momentarily as Steve’s words reached his ears. "I love you so much."

Steve repeated it over and over, soft murmurs against Bucky's skin, punctuating each one with a lingering kiss against his back. Bucky pressed his forehead against the bed and closed his eyes tightly as the enormity of what he said hit him.

"I didn't know," he whispered. "I didn't know I could love you so much."

"Oh God, Steve."

Bucky was completely overcome. A visible shudder ran through him as Steve’s body continued to rock into his, his lips ghosting over Bucky's skin. The brunet felt Steve’s movements become more frantic and as if on cue, Bucky's body began to tighten. Bucky gripped his hand tighter and twisted his fingers deeper into the blankets as a wave of pleasure unlike anything he'd ever known overtook him. Bucky said his name over and over again, his face still pressed against the blankets as he continued to push back against the blond. With one more deep thrust and a loud groan, his body tensed and stilled above Bucky’s as he came inside of him. Bucky's whispered name fell from his lips in an exhausted gasp as Steve collapsed against his back.

They lay there in silence as their breathing calmed and their heart rates began to slow. Moving off slightly to Bucky's side, Steve brushed the damp hair from Bucky's forehead and tilted his chin to look at him, his expression changing from the hunger and urgency of earlier to one mirroring the devotion Bucky had heard in his voice.

"That isn't how I wanted to say that," he said quietly, a note of apology in his voice. Their gazes held and Bucky nodded, unable to form any words. His breaths were shallow and Bucky's heart pounded in his chest so loudly, he was sure Steve could hear it.

Say it again. Please.

His eyes searched Bucky’s as he continued to twine his fingers through Bucky's hair. Closing his eyes briefly, he seemed to be reaching inside himself for something. "I do love you, Bucky."

Bucky's chin trembled slightly and he had to look away. He was reeling. Steve loved him. Suddenly, Bucky didn't care why he said it or if it could all be taken away tomorrow. Tonight, right now, the man of Bucky's dreams loved him.

Bucky moved his eyes back up to his and saw the worry his hesitation had caused Steve. A smile slowly lifted Bucky's lips as he placed his palm against Steve’s cheek. He leaned into Bucky's touch and his breath caught at how vulnerable the blond seemed. Bucky's body seemed to vibrate with the love he felt for Steve. Bucky needed him to know he was with him.

"I love you too, Steve. So much." Bucky's voice shook as he finally said the words to him. " So much." Bucky blinked and tears he didn't know were there fell from his eyes.

He smiled and it took Bucky's breath away as his arms encircled him. "I love you," he whispered, kissing Bucky's tear-streaked face. Placing his hand on the back of Bucky's neck, he watched him, his thumb running lightly over the pulse in Bucky's throat. Steve’s gaze flickered to Bucky's mouth and he pulled him in, brushing his lips softly against his before pulling away.

"Say it again, Bucky. Tell me you love me."

Rolling him onto his back, Bucky hovered over him slightly, "I love you," Bucky said simply, happier than he thought possible at being able to say those three little words aloud.

Lifting his head from the pillow, he smoothed his hand over Bucky's hair and kissed him, smiling against his lips.

"I think I'm going to need to hear you say that every five minutes," he whispered against the brunet, pulling Bucky's body on top of his. Pressing his mouth to his, Bucky moaned as his tongue slipped between Bucky's parted lips and his hand twisted into his brown hair to cradle the back of his head. Bucky lay down against his chest and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. Steve’s arms wrapped tightly around him and Bucky felt his lips press to the top of his head.

"Can I stay?" he asked quietly, his fingers brushing through Bucky's hair.

"Yes," Bucky sighed. "Never leave."

His heartbeat beneath Bucky's ear and the steady rhythm of his breathing, coupled with the emotional exhaustion of the day, began to take its toll as Bucky's eyelids grew heavy. Bucky moved up his body slightly, nestling his head in the crook of Steve’s neck and placing a soft kiss against his skin.

"I know what you mean now," Steve whispered against him.

"Hmm? About what, baby?" Bucky muttered sleepily.

Steve slid his hand down his naked body, placing his palm over Bucky’s tattoo.

"This," he murmured as Bucky began to fall asleep in his arms. "Nu regret nimic."


	16. Behave

Bucky loved him.

Sighing deeply, Steve nuzzled against Bucky's warm skin, shifting to move closer to the sound of his beating heart.

Every night they spent together, Steve found himself waking in this same position: lying atop the brunet, Steve's face pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around Bucky. He was drawn to Bucky even as they slept as if his body craved Bucky's even when Steve's conscious mind dozed.

In Steve's twenty-eight years, he'd spent the night with various women and men, often holding them as they slept, but it was never like this. Just as when they were awake, he couldn't get close enough, as if his body believed that holding Bucky's so tightly against him would bind him to Steve forever. Steve had to admit that the image sounded better each time it came to mind.

Sitting up slightly with Steve's weight on his elbow, Steve watched him. The full moon outside the window lit up the room just enough to see, painting images of rustling trees along the walls and casting Bucky in a soft blue glow.

He sighed in his sleep, pursing his lips and frowning slightly as Bucky readjusted his position. Steve would never stop being overwhelmed with how beautiful Bucky was.

Absentmindedly, Steve reached for Bucky's left hand, tracing his fingers along the soft skin. He raised it gently and placed a kiss against the palm, admiring the brunet’s figure again. A soft moan escaped Bucky's lips as Steve lightly massaged his palm before stilling his movement as his eyes focused on Bucky's bare ring finger.

A sudden image passed through Steve's mind. He saw himself on one knee, slipping a beautiful ring on this finger, asking Bucky to take him as his forever and to let Steve have him in return. The clarity of that picture was so overpowering it nearly took Steve's breath away.

Pressing his forehead against Bucky's chest Steve closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to calm down, to force back the odd mixture of panic and elation that image evoked. Steve was struck by how different this feeling was now as opposed to the past.

For the first time ever, an unclear future lay before him, and Steve was terrified.

As if sensing Steve's struggle, Bucky curled his fingers around the blond’s as he slept, calming Steve without even realizing it. A few deep breaths and thirty-two beats of Bucky's heart later, Steve felt calm… and also wide awake.

Lifting himself off of the younger man, Steve rolled onto his back; gazing at the darkened ceiling without really seeing it.

He was lost in thoughts of Bucky, of them, of what Steve wanted to give him. Within seconds Bucky shifted, curling himself into Steve's side, his head on the blond’s shoulder and his leg draped over Steve's hip. Steve pulled Bucky's to him, turning his body towards his and closing his eyes again, focusing on how perfectly Bucky fit against him. Running Steve's fingers absentmindedly through Bucky's hair, Steve thought back on how close he came to screwing everything up.

His stomach twisted remembering Bucky's pained and detached expression as he'd left Steve's apartment yesterday, knowing that he'd been the one to cause it.

He'd stood helplessly across from Tony, knowing Bucky was in the other room and listening to every word. Even Steve was surprised at how easily the lies came; now naturally Steve slipped back into that cold, heartless persona Steve used to hide behind on a daily basis.

Steve knew Tony felt that he was acting suspiciously but he had no idea if he had actually figured it out. Steve considered briefly the possibility that Pepper had said something but quickly discounted it. She'd given Steve her word and regardless of their differences, Steve believed her. Yesterday he'd been relentless, convinced that Steve was behaving inappropriately.

It killed Steve that he was right.

Suddenly feeling angry and cornered he'd snapped, shouting that Bucky meant nothing to him. The moment the words left Steve's mouth a crushing sense of guilt and dread settled deep within his chest, knowing without even seeing Bucky's face that Steve had hurt him.

Finally convinced, Tony had turned to leave, stopping as the sound of a cell phone filled the room.

Steve had watched as the realization dawned on him that Steve was not alone. He'd surprised him though, assuming that he had some random person with him, apologizing repeatedly before finally leaving.

He wasn't the one who needed to apologize.

When Steve went to the brunet, he knew instantly that the damage had been done. Bucky was distant and removed, and avoided Steve’s eyes as he dressed, making up an excuse about needing to see his friend.

He tried to calm Bucky's fears, reminding him that Steve had only said those things because he promised to keep their secret. Steve had been so ready to fight Bucky on that, to suggest they just tell him. Judging by his reaction, it was a good thing Bucky had stopped him.

He tried to tell Steve that everything was fine, but by now he knew the younger man too well, and Bucky was unable to disassemble for him anymore. Steve managed to convince Bucky to spend the night with him again, playing on Bucky's weakness to his touch. He'd said a silent prayer when Bucky reluctantly agreed, promising himself he'd make things right.

He would make things right because Steve needed him because Steve loved him.

For the first time in Steve's life, Steve knew the depth of those words.

The sound of his empty stomach reminded Steve that they'd never had dinner. Steve smiled as it occurred to him that that seemed to happen a lot.

Placing a soft kiss against Bucky’s collarbone and one on Bucky's lips Steve climbed out of bed, careful to not wake him.

He almost laughed as Steve tried to count how many times he'd imagined being in Bucky's bedroom. One of Steve's recurring fantasies had been of laying Bucky across the bed and fucking the brunet into oblivion, second only to the one Steve had of taking Bucky on top of Steve's desk.

Finding Steve's boxer briefs in a chair near the bed, he pulled them on and made his way into the living room, closing the door softly behind him.

The room was larger than Steve had realized, and the wide windows lining the deep chocolate-colored walls prevented him from having to turn on any lights. The floors were the same dark cherry wood as the bedroom and also covered by a large area rug. It was obvious that great consideration had been put into each detail of the room; from the black and white portraits that adorned the walls, to the two large, comfortable-looking couches arranged in front of the ornate fireplace.

Grabbing an apple from a bowl on the coffee table, Steve took a moment to admire some of the photos, recognizing Bucky instantly. There were photos of who Steve assumed were Bucky's parents, some of a group of teenagers, and several more recent ones. 

Steve’s body tensed and Steve stood upright as two arms encircled his waist.

"There you are," Bucky whispered quietly, placing a kiss on Steve's back.

"I was hungry," Steve murmured, turning in his arms and motioning to his half-eaten apple. "I tried not to wake you up."

"Hmm. Well, my blanket was gone," Bucky answered, tightening his hold on Steve. "I miss you when you're not there."

Steve smiled and moved to placed a soft kiss against Bucky's lips and loving that he was referring to the way Steve held the brunet while they slept.

"Let's see what we can do to make sure you don't have to miss me," Steve whispered against his lips.

He nodded, and Steve lightly brushed the back of his hand along Bucky's cheek.

"Remember the rule about me not being able to leave without kissing you goodbye?"

"Yes," Steve said, as he continued to stroke his face.

"I'd like to make the same rule for you," Bucky spoke softly, an undertone of sadness to his voice. Steve's hand stilled and he looked into Bucky's eyes. Did the fact that Steve had left worry him?

"I promise I will never leave without kissing you goodbye. I'm not going anywhere, baby…and I did kiss you. Right here," Steve whispered, tracing his thumb across Bucky's bottom lip, placing a soft, lingering kiss there.

"And here." Steve pulled away slightly and leaned over, placing chaste kisses gently along his collarbone before moving down to place an open-mouthed kiss against Bucky's chest then his nipple as Bucky moaned.

Bucky sighed, as Steve's mouth moved from one nipple to the other. Bucky's hands threaded into Steve's hair, holding him close. His tongue traced Bucky's hardened nipple and Steve bit down lightly, feeling himself harden at the sound the brunet made.

"Didn't you say something about eating?" Bucky asked breathily, his fingers now moving more forcefully against Steve's scalp.

"Oh, I'm getting there."

Steve dropped to his knees in front of the younger man, wrapping his hands around Bucky's hips, pulling him to the blond. Bucky's stomach muscles tensed under Steve's lips as he kissed a trail down towards his navel.

"But-" Bucky began to protest.

"Shh," Steve answered, pushing him back slightly, the sound of the leather cushions creaking as Bucky fell against them. "I can't wait."

"Steve," Bucky whispered softly, his eyes meeting Steve’s in the dark.

He curled his fingers around the waistband of the brunet’s boxers before sliding them off his body. Placing his palms on the inside of Bucky's thighs, Steve pushed them apart, leaving him open and exposed. Steve's eyes traveled down Bucky's body, illuminated perfectly in a narrow stream of moonlight. Sliding his hands to Bucky's hips, he pulled him to the edge of the couch, causing him to gasp quietly. Not wasting any time, Steve let his hand wrap around the younger man’s growing erection as he kissed along his hip bone and the tattoo.

"Tell me, Bucky," Steve murmured against his skin. Bucky groaned and tugged on Steve's hair, urging him forward.

"I love you," Bucky whispered. Hearing those words again broke through Steve's last wall of restraint.

The moment Steve's tongue drew a line up his shaft, he was unable to stop the groan that emanated from deep inside Steve's chest. Steve closed his lips over the tip and drew his tongue along the slit, closing his eyes against the sensory overload. Everything about Bucky overwhelmed him: Bucky's sounds, his smell and especially the way he tasted. 

His body seemed to vibrate beneath Steve and he tightened his hold on Bucky's hips to keep him from bucking them into the blond’s mouth. The sight of Bucky so aroused and physically affected by the mere anticipation of his touch sent a surge of arousal to Steve's already painfully hard cock.

"Easy, baby. Be patient," Steve whispered, his lips hovering just above him, his hand still stroking languidly. "You already know how good I can make you feel." He lifted his eyes to the brunet’s. "Don't you?"

"Don't you, Bucky?" The warm breath from his words fanned over Bucky's erection, causing his hips to lift off the leather cushion. Increasing his grip, Steve held the brunet more firmly, thrilled when a whispered 'yes' left Bucky's lips, the sound more a plea than an answer.

He again lowered his head to close his mouth around him, sinking down some as he drew circles around the tip, but not swallowing him down fully. Beautiful sounds fell from his parted lips and God, if Bucky kept this up Steve was going to come just from listening to him.

"I want you inside of me," Bucky pleaded, his fingers brushing along Steve's face.

"You mean like this?" Removing a hand from Bucky's hip, Steve snaked his hand around to slip a finger into the younger man. He met little resistance as they had intercourse not too long before. After a moment, he rotated Bucky’s hips slightly, removing his finger and pressed the flat of his tongue along the brunet’s entrance before slipping his tongue inside, moaning at the faint taste of their lovemaking.

"Fuck, baby," Steve began, pulling away to replace his tongue with his fingers. "I can taste us both. Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is?"

He became insatiable, licking, sucking and tasting, letting Bucky's sounds and the unrestrained movement of his body as Bucky sought release, overwhelm Steve. He moved to suck Bucky down again, this time to the root. He continued to work him with his mouth as the younger man neared his release. Lifting his eyes, Steve waited as he jerked him off with his fist, wanting to see the exact moment Bucky's climax took hold of him.

He was so beautiful. Eyes closed, mouth open, completely lost to everything in the world for that one moment but the pleasure Steve was giving him. Steve wanted so badly to thrust himself inside of him, to relieve the almost painful need he felt but wanted this to be for Bucky. One small, insignificant thank you for all that Bucky had brought into Steve's life.

Taking Bucky's cock into his mouth, Steve sucked lightly, watching in awe as Bucky's body arched and tightened around Steve's fingers. His hands pulled the blond’s hair roughly and Bucky called out Steve's name as he finally came. Steve swallowed every last drop that Bucky gave him. 

Placing a kiss on each of Bucky's trembling thighs, Steve set his feet on the floor, kissing his way up Bucky's body.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you come," Steve whispered against the soft skin below his ear.

Gripping his hair Bucky pulled Steve to him, kissing him deeply and moaning into Steve's mouth as Bucky tasted himself. His hands moved down Steve's chest and stomach and the blond shuddered as Bucky's fingers grazed Steve’s own aching erection. Gathering Bucky's hands in his, Steve shook his head.

"No, baby."

"But-"

"No, no buts. This is all about you," Steve whispered against Bucky's lips. Steve moved his hand to run through Bucky's tangled hair. "Just let me give this to you."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before cupping Steve's jaw and kissing him softly.

Words couldn't express how much Steve loved this man. Twisting his hands into Bucky's hair Steve pulled the younger man to him, trying to convey everything Steve felt as he kissed him passionately.

As Steve pulled away, his breath labored, he rested his forehead against Bucky’s.

"I love you, Bucky. Always remember that." Bucky nodded, his chest heaving with the same excitement Steve felt.

"I love you, too. Will you let me feed you now?" Bucky giggled at Steve's raised eyebrow. "Food," Bucky emphasized.

"Please," Steve laughed, kissing his forehead before offering him a hand and pulling Bucky to his feet.

"There's the kitchen," Bucky motioned. "I'm just going to get cleaned up and I'll be right out."

Being with Bucky's was so effortless, so different than any relationship he’d ever had in the past. Bucky understood him, often finishing Steve's sentences before he’d even completed the thought in his own head. The same vision he’d had as he’d watched Bucky's sleep returned to Steve and he wondered what it would be like to spend every day this way.

Shaking his head, Steve realized that he was getting ahead of himself; they still needed to tell everyone. Steve's stomach twisted and he quickly swept the thought away. He would just focus on now. they were here together, and Steve was fucking happy. For once he would stop being so obsessive and just enjoy it.

Entering the kitchen, Steve turned on a small lamp sitting on a desk near the door and looked around. The space was large and obviously designed by someone who spent a lot of time in here. Like the other rooms, it was light and airy, filled with things that were both practical and loved. Huge expanses of light maple cabinetry covered the walls with a matching butcher block in the center of the tiled floor.

He heard water running down the hall and moved to the stainless steel refrigerator, opening it to examine the contents. At the sound of Bucky's footsteps, Steve pulled out a frozen pizza and looked up to see Bucky walking in, still wearing only boxer briefs. 

“We’re not eating this." Bucky took the pizza from Steve's hands and returned it to the freezer, pulling items out and placing them on the counter. "If you want pizza, we'll make one." Bucky stopped and looked at the clock. "Unless you're tired, that is."

He followed Bucky's gaze to the iron clock on the wall that read 1:17 a.m.

"I'm anything but tired," Steve said quickly, Steve's heart skipping slightly at the bright smile that lit up Bucky's face. "Tell me where you want me."

He cocked an eyebrow as his gaze wandered hungrily down Steve's body and Steve shook his head, smirking.

Bucky turned on the large oven and retrieved a pizza stone from a cabinet, placing it inside to preheat.

"We'll just use a prepared crust I have. Do you want to chop or grate?"

For the next twenty minutes they worked together and, just like at work, it was effortless. They talked and laughed; Steve stole kisses and caught Bucky's staring at his chest on more than one occasion. Steve cleaned up while Bucky gathered plates and silverware, placing them on a tray. The timer went off just as they finished and Steve followed Bucky with their meal and a bottle of wine into the living room to eat.

An hour later, with full stomachs and an almost empty bottle of red wine, they sat together on the floor. Bucky leaned against the couch and Steve lay with his head in Bucky's lap, his eyes closed as Bucky ran his hands through Steve's hair.

Bucky continued to play with Steve's hair as Steve thought about their day. Minutes passed before the sound of Bucky's voice broke through Steve's thoughts.

"I love your hair," Bucky sighed, more to himself than Steve.

"I need to get it cut," Steve answered, his hands instinctively running through it.

"No, not yet. You usually let it get a bit longer," Bucky replied absentmindedly, twisting the blond strands around his fingers.

"I do?"

"Mmhmm," Bucky nodded.

"You notice that?"

"Of course. Your hair was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

The blond sat up and turned to face him, pulling Bucky between his open legs so their faces were only a foot apart.

Our faces drifted closer, their mouths only a breath apart.

"Sometimes I wonder," Steve murmured, brushing his lips lightly against his. "How long I've actually loved you."

\---

The next morning Steve woke in Bucky's arms, exhausted, sore, and happier than he’d ever been in his life. Steve looked at the clock on the bedside table and down at Bucky, who was still fast asleep. They'd been up until four in the morning; maybe stamina really wasn't a problem. Steve brushed the hair from Bucky's face and leaned over, placing a line of kisses along his neck to his ear.

"Bucky, I have to go," Steve whispered softly.

He moaned sleepily and turned into the blond. "No, don't go. Stay and sleep."

"Baby, I have to. I don't have any clothes here and I have a meeting downtown in three hours."

"Shit," Bucky grumbled. "So do I. What time is it? I feel like I just went to sleep."

"That's because you did," Steve chuckled against Bucky's collarbone. "It's seven."

"You know, I used to be much more regimented, going to the gym every morning before work. You have seriously cut into my workout routine," Bucky teased.

"Oh, I think you've been getting plenty of exercise," Steve growled. Bucky moaned as Steve worked his way down to the brunet’s chest and sternum. 

"Didn't you say something about a meeting?" Bucky questioned, even as his hands began tugging Steve closer.

Groaning in frustration, Steve placed one last kiss against Bucky's chest and cursed his ever-present hard on.

"Yes," Steve sighed exacerbated.

Rolling onto Bucky's side, he propped himself up on his elbow as Steve climbed out of bed. Steve searched the floor for his underwear he finished dressing quickly and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

Steve heard a rustle of fabric and felt Bucky's arms wrap around his shoulders. The heat of Bucky's body pressed against his back radiated through the thin cotton. Turning his head, Steve kissed him, his hands moving behind himself and finding only warm, bare skin.

"Mmm, Bucky. You don't fight fair."

"I believe someone once said, as long as it gets me you, I don't care."

Standing up, Steve turned to face Bucky as he knelt on the bed, Bucky's naked body now pressed against Steve's clothed one.

"You have me, don't ever doubt that," Steve said, sure of himself. 

"I don't," Bucky whispered, as he finished buttoning Steve's shirt. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"A few hours," Steve smiled, reassured by the words. "I love you."

He kissed Bucky long and slow before reluctantly dragging himself away.

\---

One hundred and sixty-three minutes later, Steve sat across from Sam, Tony, and one other executive in the back of a company limo, only half listening as they discussed the status of his current replacement. Apparently Steve's lack of focus had caused him to miss the hiring announcement of a new executive. With a resigned sigh, Steve promised himself not to make that mistake again.

That promise was shot to hell the minute Steve heard Bucky's voice just outside the car and Steve had to physically restrain himself from getting out to see him.

Natasha entered first moving past Steve to take a seat next to Tony. Despite his distraction, Steve did his best to greet her, only taking Steve's eyes away from the door for the briefest of moments. Steve could hear Bucky speaking, attempting to say his goodbyes to the young driver now. What was his name? Clint?

Whatever it was, Steve didn't like the way he was always looking at him. Steve was about to step out and throw Bucky over his shoulder when Tony spoke.

"Boy, that kid sure has a thing for Bucky," he said in a hushed tone, his body leaning towards the blond.

"Yes," Steve mumbled, attempting to look uninterested. "I can see that."

Moments later, Bucky appeared in the doorway and Steve was unable to tear his eyes away. Bucky slipped into the seat next to him, and Steve's heart and dick surged at the feeling of the brunet so close again. The door closed behind Bucky and Steve continued to look down at his paperwork, trying to ignore the way Bucky's scent engulfed and obliterated me.

"Gentlemen," Bucky said quietly, nodding to each of the other men in the car.

"James, how have you been?" Sam asked amiably. It was clear from his tone how happy he was to see him.

"I've been great, Sam. How are you?"

The blond continued to watch Bucky out of the corner of his eye as he spoke to everyone, noticing the way Bucky's eyes engaged with whomever he was speaking, and how he sat and situated himself in his seat.

They arrived a short time later and Steve motioned for Bucky to stay behind, explaining to the others that they would be right behind them. The moment the door closed, Steve pulled the brunet to him, Steve's hand gripping his hair, Steve's lips hungrily seeking out his. Bucky gasped as Steve pulled him roughly to him, the sound quickly turning into a moan as Bucky's body melted against the blond’s.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to do that?" Steve said against Bucky's neck. "That suit…I don't think I can make it through the day with you in that fucking suit."

"This suit?" Bucky asked confused. 

"God, Steve know, it makes no fucking sense. There's just something about it…the color and the way it looks on you..." Steve's hands began moving up Bucky's thighs. 

"Okay, listen," Bucky said, stopping Steve's hands from further exploration. "If you can make it through the day," Bucky paused and lifted an eyebrow. "I'll let you take it off me tonight."

"Shit shit, " Steve groaned. his head fell back against the seat as he ran his hands through his hair. "I am so fucked."

Turning at the sound of Bucky's laughter, Steve looked at him through narrowed eyes. "This isn't funny."

He tried unsuccessfully to hide Bucky's smile. "Come on, we can do this."

"That's easy for you to say. You won't be the one walking around with a massive hard-on all day." At this point, Bucky wasn't even attempting to hide his laughter.

“Oh, you don't know that,” Bucky retorted. Steve tried to glare at him but it was impossible. With a resigned sigh, Steve cupped Bucky's face. "One more kiss?"

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve’s softly before motioning towards the door.

Nodding, Steve grabbed his laptop and briefcase and exited before the brunet, holding the door and assisting Bucky as he stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. The light played in the colors of Bucky's dark hair, styled well on top of his head. Steve's hand itched to touch Bucky's as they entered the building, to entwine his fingers with his or place his palm on the center of Bucky's back.

Just one more bit of restraint Steve would have to muster.

The conference room was on the main floor and they entered only a few minutes after the others who were still greeting each other. Steve watched as Sam smiled at Bucky, walking ahead of Steve and pulling out Bucky's chair. Steve's stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt and jealousy at not being able to do it himself.

"Mr. Barnes, do you have the PEG reports?" Steve asked quietly, taking the seat next to him. He’d begun sorting through files, immediately moving to the bottom of the stack and placing the correct one in Steve's hand.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers." Their eyes met only briefly but Bucky's fingers lingered against his for a moment longer than was appropriate, the pad of Bucky's index finger brushing along the back of Steve's hand. The simple yet intimate contact caused Steve's pulse to increase slightly.

"Thank you," Steve murmured, Bucky's eyes meeting his again. Steve could already see this was going to be an interesting meeting.

The next hour ran like clockwork. Bucky sat mere inches from him, taking notes and handing Steve information at the appropriate time, but Steve was constantly aware of each of Bucky's movements. Steve hadn't realized how hard it would be to keep the distance once he accepted his feelings. Steve knew on a cerebral level it was best to keep it between them for now, but Steve was already feeling the strain emotionally.

The blond was proud to be in love with Bucky, and even more proud that Bucky loved him in return. Steve didn't want to hide that. Despite their agreement, Steve could already see that they would need to make some changes soon.

Steve stood to give his own part of the presentation, discussing projected earnings and profit margins, conscious all the while that Bucky was watching him. Even from across a darkened room, ostensibly focused on a PowerPoint presentation, Steve felt this unrelenting draw to him. It was unlike anything he’d ever known before.

As Steve returned to his seat to listen, his part done, for now, Steve's eyes drifted to Bucky's figure next to him. 

\---

At ten after twelve, with preliminary contracts in hand, they headed back to the office. The conversation was lively, but Steve busied himself on his phone.

Steve glanced at Bucky, now sitting across from him, seemingly lost in his calendar. Bucky certainly appeared better at focusing and tuning out distractions than Steve was.

From under Steve's lashes, he watched as Bucky tapped the pencil against Bucky's full lower lip before taking it gently between his teeth. Steve groaned inwardly and looked back at his phone, typing Bucky out a message.

‘6 hours until that suit comes off.’

The phone buzzed quietly in Bucky's hand and Bucky pushed a series of buttons. Steve watched the expression change on Bucky's face the moment he realized it was from the blond. Raising one eyebrow Bucky looked up at Steve before typing and returning to his calendar.

‘Actually, 5 hours 37 minutes. Trust me, I'm counting.’

Fuck. Bucky was good.

Steve’s mind began to wander. His head filled with images of him taking Bucky on every surface in the brunet’s apartment. Bending him over a table, or in the shower, or maybe against a wall. Maybe Steve could bring back some memories and fuck Bucky against the large windows in his apartment, gripping his hips and snaking a hand up to wrap around his throat and -

"Steve? Are you okay" Sam’s voice broke through Steve's thoughts and he lifted his chin to look at him. Five sets of concerned eyes looked back at me, including Bucky's.

What an actor.

"Of course," Steve answered, waving him off. "Just catching up on some emails." Appeased, he nodded and went back to his conversation. Steve didn't miss Bucky's smirk before returning to his work.

‘Will you come to lunch with me?’

Steve waited, trying to watch Bucky's unnoticed.

‘I'd love to.’

When they pulled into the parking garage and unloaded, Steve promised Tony that he would see him later that afternoon for a meeting before they all separated.

"Hungry?" Steve asked, motioning towards his car.

"Starving," Bucky grinned.

He opened the door for him, watching as Bucky folded himself into the seat, silently promising that Steve would behave. They left for meetings and lunches all the time together, so Steve wasn't particularly worried about appearances.

There wasn't a dull moment in the conversation as they drove to a small Italian restaurant on the outskirts of the city. Steve held Bucky's hand the entire time, relishing in the simple act of just being able to touch him, and soothed by Bucky's thumb rubbing random, lazy circles on Steve's hand.

As they parked, Steve shut off the engine and turned to him.

"Thank you for coming."

He smiled brightly, and Steve was consumed with how much he adored this man.

"I'm glad to get you all to myself for a bit."

They sat in the car, under the shade of a large oak. The signs of summer were all around them – bright grass, vivid flowers, crowds enjoying the sun – but all Steve saw was him. Bucky's eyes drifted quickly to Steve's mouth as Steve smoothed a wayward curl.

"I can't believe how much I want you right now," Steve said, his voice raspy and strained. "Does this ever stop?" Sliding his hand through Bucky's hair, Steve gripped the back of Bucky's neck, pulling him towards Steve as his thumb brushed the soft skin along the brunet’s throat.

"I hope not." Bucky's whisper was spoken against Steve's parted lips, and he closed his eyes as Steve tasted Bucky's warm breath on his tongue. Closing the distance, Bucky pressed his mouth softly to Steve’s, delicately taking Steve's bottom lip between his. Steve moaned as the simple, chaste kiss sent a surge of need throughout his body and Steve felt himself harden, cursing the fact that his car didn't have a back seat.

Pulling away, Steve pressed his forehead against his, the feel of Bucky's rapid pulse racing beneath his thumb.

"As much as I'd like to sit here and kiss you all day if we want to eat before my next meeting we need to get out of this car," Steve murmured.

The younger man laughed and Steve kissed his hair, smiling at the familiar scent of oranges.

"Stay there," Steve instructed, sliding out of his seat and walking around to open Bucky's door. Steve helped him out, once again admiring the way that suit jacket hugged Bucky's body and placed a possessive hand on his lower back as they continued into the restaurant.

Steve requested a small, semi-secluded table near the back of the dining room and pulled out Bucky's chair as he sat.

"I've never been here," Bucky mused as he read the menu.

"I love it. I come here when I need to get away from the people in the city," Steve added, not even needing to look at his own menu. "They have the best Ossobuco I've had outside of Italy."

The brunet shook his head, smiling. "I've never had that."

"Good, then you can try mine." Steve helped Bucky decide what to order and they continued their conversation from the drive over.

"Okay," Bucky began, eyeing Steve appreciatively as he took off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of Steve's chair. "Favorite family vacation?"

Steve reached across the table and laced their fingers. "Hmm…That's a tough one. We never really got the chance to travel a lot growing up, but I think my favorite memories are of the time we spent at a summer house on the coast. Playing in the sand, learning to swim in the ocean, just being a kid. What about you?"

He sighed. "I haven't been to the ocean in so long, I bet you were adorable."

"Well, you'd have to ask my mother," Steve laughed, rolling his eyes. "And I'm sure she'd love to talk about it. Now answer my question,” he insisted playfully.

"I used to go to Chicago every summer to stay with my mom. But I ended up staying in New York since I grew up in Brooklyn with my mom and sister." Steve squeezed Bucky's hand.

"You have no idea how thankful I am that you did," Steve replied softly.

Their food arrived and Steve continued on with the questions as they ate.

"First time?" Steve was greeted with raised eyebrows from across the table.

"First time what?" Bucky asked his eyes narrowing. Steve leaned forward with his elbows on the table, dying of curiosity.

"First, first time," Steve stated, emphasizing each word.

"Really?"

"Really."

The younger man cleared his throat and took a long drink of his water.

"I was seventeen and he was eighteen, we dated throughout most of my senior year. He was the first guy I had dated after I came out to myself and my close friends and family. I had struggled all throughout high school with my sexuality and I had finally figured it out." Steve was already feeling his blood pressure increase imagining some sleazy teenage boy touching a naive young Bucky. 

"Actually you've met him," Bucky mentioned with a casual wave of his hand.

"Excuse me?" Steve asked, staring at the brunet dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, twirling his pasta around his fork. "Alex, the guy we ran into one our way to a luncheon a few weeks back."

Oh. Alex.

His hand went automatically to the bridge of Steve's nose as he remembered the day they ran into Bucky's ex-boyfriend. The same Alex who put his arms around Bucky and made him laugh. The same Alex Bucky was thrilled to see, who was obviously still in love with the brunet and who now lived in New York. That Alex.

"So Alex was your first." Steve's voice was flat, and somehow it didn't quite come out as the question he'd intended. Steve had genuinely wanted to know about Bucky's first time but Steve simply didn't realize it would be so…real. "And?"

"And what?"

"Tell me," Steve said, trying to mask the hard jealousy raging through him.

"Well, it was in a cornfield. I still remember the sound of the corn blowing in the wind."

"A cornfield? That sounds like the beginning of a horror movie," Steve mumbled. What kind of douche takes someone to a cornfield to have sex for the first time?

"True, it does sound odd to hear it now," Bucky replied laughing. "But it was sweet, and he was gentle. All in all, not a bad way to lose one's virginity."

Steve paused as he considered his next question. Did Steve want to know?

"Did you love him?"

He lifted his eyes to Bucky’s, terrified of what he would find there. Terrified that this all-consuming love Steve felt for Bucky's and only him, Bucky had shared with someone else.

"I thought I did… but those feelings all feel very young and naive in hindsight. I don't think I truly understood what that word meant until I met you." Bucky tightened his grasp on Steve's hand as he spoke, attempting to soothe him. Steve obviously knew he'd been with other men before him. but knowing and actually hearing the details were two different matters. Steve could literally feel his primal tendencies bubbling beneath the surface.

"What about you?"

"What?" Steve asked, distracted. He'd been mentally calculating how long it would take to find Alex's office and strangle him.

"Your first time?" Bucky reminded Steve gently.

"Oh, it was nothing as exciting as a cornfield, I can tell you that much." Steve hated the snark in Steve's voice but couldn't squelch it.

Bucky narrowed his eyes again and glared at the blond.

"Okay, okay. I was sixteen and a sophomore. We'd been at a football game that night and a bunch of us went over to my friend's house to spend the night. Well, he had this sister who was a senior and…well you know." Steve shrugged his shoulders. "So were you with him more than once?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Bucky interrupted. "You were sixteen and she was what? Eighteen?"

"I guess? But you didn't answer my question."

"And you're not answering mine."

"There's not really much to tell. It took like two minutes. I was practically ready to come before she agreed. I'm glad you find this so amusing," Steve retorted sarcastically, glaring at him as Bucky doubled over in laughter. "Now answer my fucking question."

"Oh God," Bucky was barely able to get out. Sitting up, Bucky wiped the tears from his eyes. "That is…just knowing the way you are now…God. That poor girl, if she only knew what she missed out on."

Steve fucking loved this man.

"And yes, I had sex with him more than once," Bucky answered and Steve's jaw clenched in response.

"How many is more than once?"

"Really, Steve? How many people have you had sex with?"

"Well…"

"Did you love any of them?" The forwardness of Bucky's question surprised him.

"I love you," Steve stated, hoping that would appease him.

"I love you, too. But that's not what I asked."

Steve’s stomach twisted with guilt as it always did when he thought of his last relationship.

"Yes." Steve kept his voice even, hoping that none of the pain he felt was clear.

"Who?" Steve could see the same battle raging in Bucky's eyes as he’d felt a moment ago: Did Bucky really want to know this?

"Her name was Lorraine."

"What happened?"

"It ended."

"Why?" Bucky sipped his water, attempting casual.

"It just…did," Steve said with finality. "Why did it end with Alex?"

Bucky looked surprised to suddenly be the focus again.

"Um…Alex was great, he is great, but he was going off to college and I didn't want the long-distance thing."

Steve felt his jaw flex, hard. "So it wasn't that things weren't working, or you'd lost interest?"

"No. I just figured, if it was meant to be, it would happen. We'd end up together somehow. That's why I was so surprised to see him that day."

Steve’s fist clenched under the table. Is that what Bucky had been thinking? That he popped back into Bucky's life because of some "destined to be together" bullshit?

Abruptly tossing his napkin on the table, Steve glared at him.

"Are you finished?" Steve's voice sounded a bit harsher than necessary.

"What?" Bucky questioned, confusion clear in his expression. Closing his eyes, Steve exhaled deeply.

"I said. Are. You. Finished?"

Rolling his eyes, Bucky set his glass on the table and stood. "Okaaay." Bucky got up when Steve did, the blond moving to grip Bucky's elbow and led them out of the restaurant.

"What the hell is your problem?" Bucky demanded, yanking his elbow from Steve as the confusion on his face was quickly replaced by irritation.

Steve avoided Bucky's question and his eyes as they walked to the car, Bucky's steps quickening to open his door before Steve could get to it.

Climbing in, Steve started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Of course, he'd thought that. How had Steve gotten himself in this fucking mess? He'd been lucky so far with Brock, and apparently with Alex, but someday, someone was going to walk in and claim him.

Claim Bucky in a way that Steve couldn't as long as they were hiding.

His blood boiled as Steve thought about all the things he wanted to do with Bucky but couldn't, all because of the situation they'd put themselves in.

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" Bucky demanded from the passenger seat.

"Is that what you thought that day you saw him? That your Prince Charming had ridden back into your life to save you from your asshole of a boss?"

His eyes widened in disbelief.

The shrill sound of Steve's cell phone cut through the silence as Bucky opened his mouth to speak.

"Fuck," Steve growled, retrieving it from his pocket. Taking a deep breath Steve answered, his tone leaving no doubt as to his current frame of mind.

The confused voice of a prospective client was on the other end. Steve did his best to calm down and smooth over whatever damage he had done by the time they pulled into the parking garage. Bucky didn't even wait until he'd completely stopped before Bucky had the door open, slamming it roughly as he stormed off. Could this day get any fucking worse?

"Bucky!" Steve shouted to Bucky's retreating form. Bucky didn't look back and disappeared into the lobby.

Quickly ending his phone call, Steve raced towards their office, knowing that's where he'd be. Sure enough, Steve heard drawers and files being slammed as soon as he stepped off the elevator.

"You. My office, now." Steve said as he brushed past the brunet.

"Are you out of your shited mind?" Bucky yelled behind him. Steve turned to face him after closing the door and stumbled back, Bucky's palms colliding with Steve's chest. "You do not get to speak to me like that anymore."

"Let's get this straight, Bucky," Steve stated, stalking towards him. Bucky took three steps backward, a small gasp leaving Bucky's throat as his body came in contact with the plate glass window next to Steve's desk. Steve placed a hand on either side of Bucky's head, trapping him.

"You," Steve whispered roughly, his mouth hovering near his, "are mine. Nobody, not Brock, not Alex, nobody is going to take you from me. It's my name you scream at night. It's me that makes you come harder than ever before. It's my cock you beg for. It's me you love, Bucky. Me."

Bucky’s eyes fell closed and he shuddered as Steve's hand moved to cup his cheek, Bucky's chest rising and falling with his quickened breaths.

"Look at me," Steve growled, his hand trembling against Bucky's cheek. "I love you beyond all reason, Bucky. Nobody is going to take you away from me."

With a shaky breath, Bucky opened his eyes and slid his hands to Steve's hips. Their eyes locked, their breath intermingling as Bucky strengthened his grip and tugged slightly, pulling Steve closer. This moment was so close to where it all began and yet so different. Two stubborn people filled with needless rage and insatiable lust, standing on the edge of a precipice, knowing the next step would change everything.

The difference, however, loomed larger than any emotion preceding it. This time Steve's lust was not driven by his all-consuming need for control, but for the consuming love, he felt in every breath and every heartbeat.

Would Steve's life ever be complete while keeping his love for Bucky's a secret?

The answer was no.

The next step was decided, Steve would make this right.

But first….

Steve drove his hand into Bucky's hair and gripped it tightly, closing any distance between them. Steve's pulse roared in his ears as he tasted Bucky, a soft moan escaping as the blond’s tongue slid against his, the sound going straight to Steve's cock. Bucky's fingers threaded tightly into Steve's hair, leading him where Bucky wanted.

Sliding Steve's hands down Bucky's sides, his hands settling on his hips. He rolled his hips against the brunet, pressing Bucky further against the cool glass. Bucky pushed Steve's jacket roughly off his shoulders, letting it fall in a pile at his feet.

He gasped as Steve grinded slightly, the movement repositioning their bodies, Steve's erection now pressing against Bucky’s. Steve's lips found his neck, sucking and biting along Bucky's throat, not caring if he marked him.

He was his; Bucky's heart, Bucky's mind, and Bucky's body.

Pulling Bucky away from the outside world, Steve gathered him closer, his lips never straying as Steve took the four steps to his desk. Loosening Steve's grip, Steve sat him on the glossy wood and stepped between Bucky's parted legs.

"Nobody could ever take me from you," Bucky whispered against Steve's open mouth, his hands now frantically pulling Steve's shirt from Steve's pants as Steve moved to push the brunet’s suit jacket off. "I've never loved anyone like this…"

"It's like I can't breathe until I'm with you." Bucky's voice was raw and desperate as he loosened Steve's tie with his hands and his words loosened the knot of jealousy in Steve's chest. "I don't own my thoughts any more…everything…it all belongs to you."

His fingers fumbled to undo Steve's shirt, before pulling roughly, Steve's chest now exposed to his feverish kisses as the tiny ivory buttons scattered across the floor as Steve set to work on Bucky’s shirt. 

Placing Steve's hands on Bucky's hips, Steve pulled him towards him, groaning as Steve felt Bucky's heat through Steve's pants.

Shaky fingers traveled down Steve's stomach to his belt, the sound of the metal buckle and Bucky's frantic breathing echoing around them. Lowering Steve's zipper Bucky pushed his pants down his hips, placing open-mouthed kisses along Steve's skin as Bucky went.

"I love you so much, Bucky," Steve whispered, guiding the brunet back to lie on the desk before he undid his belt and fly to tug Bucky’s pants off. The blond reached to his second drawer on his desk and retrieved a bottle of lube, opening the cap and depositing some of the clear liquid onto his fingers. When he turned his attention back to the man before him he was struck by how handsome Bucky truly was. His grey-blue eyes were blown with arousal but could be both soft and piercing at times. His defined nose and his full, kiss-swollen lips. His strong and angled jaw that adds a sharpness to his features, making all the more attractive. 

This was the realization of every fantasy Steve had ever had: Bucky spread across Steve's desk, his beautiful body open and waiting. Lifting Bucky's head, he gripped Steve's shirt, pulling the blond over him. The younger man situated his position to accommodate Steve’s form as he snaked his hand around to press his slick fingers to Bucky’s entrance, teasing in slow circles before gently pressing in a single finger. 

"Fuck, Bucky. All those months of wanting to touch you…wishing you would touch me. Maybe when I'm done I'll bend you over and take you again from behind. I know how much you like that. Don't you, Bucky?" The blond growled low in his throat as he pushed in a second finger alongside the first, pumping his hand and curling his fingers slightly, causing the brunet to mewl.

"I can't wait to get you home and do this all over again," Steve panted, his hands teasing Bucky's nipple. "I want you completely naked under me,” he added, scissoring his fingers before carefully adding a third finger and continuing to open him up. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” the brunet voiced impatiently after another moment or so of Steve prepping him with his fingers. The blond removed his fingers and checked again with Bucky before he pressed the head of his cock against Bucky and gripped his hips tightly, watching as Bucky slowly took the length of Steve inside of his body. Closing his eyes Steve paused, relishing in the feel of being engulfed by him. Bucky lifted his hips, taking him deeper and Steve groaned, pulling out before pushing into the younger man again.

Placing Bucky's legs over Steve's shoulders, he hovered over him, gripping the sides of the desk as Steve began to thrust deeply.

Within the blurry recesses of his mind, Steve was aware that they were in his office, that there were people just on the other side of these walls. There were footsteps in the hall, traffic on the street below and phones ringing in the distance. Steve knew it should matter, but it didn't.

"I can't get close enough," Steve panted. "It doesn't get any easier when I'm with you… or… fuck…even inside you."

Bucky’s body slid along the glossy surface with each of Steve's thrusts, hands grasping to hold on. Bucky arched his back, palms hitting the desk, sending a stack of files to the floor, a flurry of papers scattering around them. The flat monitor shook, threatening to topple, pens rolled across the wood, one by one bouncing on the carpet below.

Steve kissed and bit along Bucky's bare legs and tilted his hips to drive deeper and hit his prostate with almost every thrust. Bucky moaned in time with his movements, clawing at Steve's open shirt, Bucky's body rocking up to meet him.

"Touch yourself, baby. Let me see you." Steve's voice was strained and desperate, trying to hold out, to see Bucky come first. Bucky trailed a hand between them, Bucky's fingers brushing Steve's abdomen as Bucky found his neglected dick, dribbling onto his stomach.

Steve groaned as he watched Bucky's fingers slip around the bare skin to stroke himself, Bucky's muscles gripping ever so slightly as he found a rhythm. Steve's arms trembled above him, his chest heaving with the exertion of their lovemaking. Steve felt his body tense in anticipation, the slow burn he'd been prolonging began to spread, the perfect friction Steve felt inside of the younger man finally overwhelming him.

"Steve," Bucky whispered, his eyes meeting Steve's, the nails of Bucky's free hand digging painfully into the blond’s shoulder. The shock of it caused Steve to groan deep in his throat, the beautiful sting pulling Steve back, allowing him to focus on Bucky's body.

Bucky was close.

Steve’s hand found the brunet’s chest as it glided along the expanse of it. His fingers trailing up along his shoulder before moving down to tease and pinch Bucky's hardened nipple. Then his hand moved back up and slowly, carefully wrapped around his exposed neck as Bucky’s head was tilted back. Steve squeezed ever so slightly on the pulse point and Bucky swore, arching into Steve again, his body finally clenching around him.

"Right there, Steve…right there."

"Fuck! Like this?"

"Yes…Oh God," Bucky moaned, his voice no more than a whisper. Steve's release began to surge through him and he was no longer able to hold it off. Gripping the edge almost painfully, Steve used the force of his entire body as he thrusted, Steve's dick pulsing deep inside of him. Steve placed a hand over Bucky's mouth, muffling his cries as he tensed, his body gripping and clenching around Steve as Bucky came.

With trembling hands, Steve moved Bucky's legs down around his hips and collapsed on top of him, Steve's shaking arms no longer able to support his weight. Bucky pulled Steve to his chest, his arms around Steve's neck as his fingers wove into Steve's hair. Bucky's heart raced beneath Steve's ear and he placed a kiss against Bucky's dampened skin.

"Come with me to Paris." The words were out of Steve's mouth before he realized what he'd said; Steve's heart sped up as he waited for Bucky's answer.

"What?" Bucky's hands stilled in Steve's hair and he tilted his head to see Steve's face.

Lifting himself onto his forearms Steve looked at him, Steve's fingers sweeping the sweaty hair off Bucky's forehead.

"Let me take you to Paris. I want to take you to a cafe, hold your hand, and walk along the Seine," Steve said excitedly. "Please say yes, Bucky."

Pushing himself up on Bucky's elbows Bucky looked at Steve with wide eyes, searching Steve's face before smiling.

"Okay," Bucky laughed. "Let's go to Paris."

Steve gripped his head and pulled Bucky to him, smiling against Bucky's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"We can go over Christmas when the office is closed for two weeks. That way we'll still get to see each other every day."

The brunet’s expression faltered slightly, Bucky's eyes drifting downwards.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, lowering his chin to meet Bucky's eyes. Before Steve could ask, the sound of his desk phone broke the silence.

Standing, Steve pulled up his pants and fastened his belt and helped Bucky's up before lifting the receiver.

"Steve Rogers."

"Steve, I need you upstairs immediately."

"Yes, sir," Steve answered, his attention focused on Bucky as he righted his own clothing. "I'll be up in five minutes." Hanging up the phone, Steve turned to him.

"I need to run upstairs." Steve paused, eyeing Bucky skeptically. "Bucky, are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Shaking his head Bucky walked quickly into Steve's bathroom, returning with one of Steve's shirts he kept there.

"No, of course not. I'm fine. Just a bit…worn out." Bucky smiled but something about it seemed off.

"You're sure?" Steve bent his head to catch Bucky's eye.

He nodded.

"Okay, why don't you go in and get cleaned up, I'll straighten things in here and run up and see what Sam needs. When I get back we can go home and start planning our trip." He pulled Bucky to him, running his fingers through Bucky's hair, smiling as Steve attempted to tame it. "Will that work?"

"I'll be waiting," Bucky whispered, his cheek resting against Steve's chest.

Steve kissed Bucky's hair and turned him towards the bathroom, watching as Bucky closed the door behind him.

Something was off, but for the life of him Steve couldn't figure it out. He shrugged out of his damaged shirt, slipping into the new one. Picking up the fallen items, he chuckled as he attempted to right the piles of papers that had scattered across the floor.

Apparently declarations of love hadn't helped their control any.

"Bucky? I'll be right back. Okay?" Steve called through the door.

"Alright," Bucky answered.

With a final check of Steve's office and a brief glimpse in the large mirror that hung near Bucky's desk, Steve made his way to the elevator. His mind was buzzing with the idea of taking Bucky to Paris, to show Bucky's everything Steve knew they would both love to see. Steve smiled and shook his head as the gold doors closed, realizing he was humming. He'd made his decision and nothing was going to keep Steve from following through.

The blond stepped off the lift and continued down the hall, smiling as Sam’s assistant waved Steve back into the rear office. Knocking Steve stepped into the room and smiled at him.

Sam did not smile back.

Steve knew at that moment that reality had finally caught up with them.


	17. Exposure

Sam sat at his large desk, his chin resting on his tented fingers, a hardened expression on his face. Steve’s eyes scanned the room, stopping at the familiar face of the man in the chair opposite him. The blond’s jaw tightened and his stomach clenched as the pieces began to come together. Steve glared at him, and he smirked back.

"Steve," he stated, his arms coming to rest on the desk and his gold pen turning idly in his fingers.

"I believe you know Mr. Hammer."

Steve nodded. "Yes, sir."

Steve thought back to that night at dinner, how glad he'd been to see his old friend.

He took a deep breath. "Steve, I've called you in here because Mr. Hammer has leveled some pretty serious accusations against you. I thought it best to allow you to defend yourself face to face."

A deep weight began to settle in Steve’s chest as he continued.

"He claims that during the time you and Mr. Barnes were in Seattle together, you behaved inappropriately. To be more specific, he claims to have witnessed the two of you kissing rather heatedly before entering his room together." Sam’s voice had a disbelieving, almost mocking quality to it and Steve felt his shoulders slump slightly. He realized Sam hadn't brought him here to chastise him, but to defend himself from what he believed were false accusations.

The silence in the room pressed upon Steve, amplifying his loss for words. His eyes drifted to the floor in defeat.

A throat cleared, but Steve wasn't sure whose.

Sam stood, his glare reproachful as he rounded the desk and made his way to the door.

"I think we're done here, Mr. Hammer. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." He paused, the prolonged quiet only increasing Bucky's dread. "And I would appreciate your discretion."

"Of course, Mr. Wilson."

The door closed and he exhaled deeply, walking past Steve to stand in front of the large expanse of floor to ceiling windows.

Steve waited.

"How long?" he asked in a voice that was entirely too calm.

Steve hesitated, still gripping even now to the promise he had made to keep their relationship between them. "A few months."

He sighed heavily again, his gaze falling to the sidewalks below.

"Steve." The sound of his name edged by such disappointment tore at his stomach. "If I would have believed for even a second there was one bit of truth to his story, I would never have discussed this in front of him."

"I know."

"So, I'm correct in assuming that this is why you've seemed distracted recently." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, sir." Steve’s voice was tentative, almost unrecognizable to his own ears.

The leather chair creaked as he returned to his seat. Steve raised his chin to see him. Sam’s expression was pensive while his tone belied his anger, calm and reproachful.

He did not meet Steve’s eyes.

"Steve, to say that I am disappointed in you does not begin to express my frame of mind right now. You are a very close friend of mine and a business partner, but you are also an executive of this company and have therefore been entrusted with the livelihood of others. Your behavior shows a wanton disregard for that." He paused and Steve saw a flash of sadness sweep over his features. "I realize that this is…James that we're talking about, but do you have any idea what the ramifications would have been if he had reported you? This isn't just about you, Steve. "

"Yes, sir. I know." Steve cleared his throat and met his eyes. "I take complete responsibility for this."

"This isn't just about you taking responsibility. If this would have gone badly, your friends and corporate partners, as well as the families of your employees, would have been jeopardized," he said, the disapproval evident in his voice. "I expected more from you."

A deep sense of shame crept through Steve. He had disappointed his longest and closest friend; the one person whose opinion, up until recently, meant more to him than anyone else's.

"I know," Steve answered, his eyes boring into the complex wood grain of his antique desk. What more was there to say?

"You do realize that if this was anyone else, you two would be fired with no questions asked?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

Sam waited and Steve glanced up at him again, the weight of his thoughts visible in his features. He began shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk as he considered his next words.

"I can't allow James to continue working for you," he said solemnly, the finality in his tone leaving no question that this was not up for debate. Steve froze as the reality became clear that as of this moment, Bucky no longer worked for him.

"As you know, there's a new executive beginning next month. I worked with him years ago and he's already been approved by the board. He'll be in need of an assistant." He paused, nodding as if he'd come to some decision. "I'll have all the arrangements made for James to be transferred and hopefully, no one will be the wiser." Raising his eyes, he continued. " If he plans on staying, that is."

Steve swallowed loudly and met Sam’s gaze, his last words breaking Steve from his stupor. He watched the blond and his eyebrows lifted as if knowing his words had hit home. Steve felt something shift inside, the shame of disappointment quickly replaced by the fear of how he would react to this.

Bucky would be devastated, of that Steve was sure. But Bucky wouldn't leave…would he?

Steve watched as he picked up his phone. He assumed Sam was speaking to his assistant, but his hushed words didn't register.

Steve’s body seemed to be made of lead, his feet planted to this spot as his mind raced with the possible outcomes. As much as Steve hated the truth coming out this way, there was something freeing about others finally knowing. Beneath the guilt and dread, there was also relief; as if a burden had suddenly been lifted from him.

They could finally move forward; surely Bucky would see this. No more hiding, no more sneaking out of each other's apartments in the early hours. Steve could tell everyone he loved Bucky, he could hold his hand. Steve’s thoughts halted when he heard that familiar voice from the reception area. The brunet entered the room, and Steve’s body instantly responded to his presence. He felt his breathing even out and his muscles relax slightly; the vice-like grip that had been holding Steve here finally starting to loosen.

Steve longed for him, even now. He longed to spare Bucky from this and ease the pain with which he would soon be confronted. Steve’s hand twitched at his side, his fingers itching to feel Bucky, to entwine with his and face this together.

Bucky crossed the room to stand beside the blond, his mere presence soothed Steve, even when he was unaware of it.

His eyes met Steve’s, his lips turned up into a genuine smile Steve knew was meant for only him. Steve attempted to reciprocate, managing only a small, apologetic one in return.

His lips were red; Bucky’s neck covered in small marks from the blond’s face and teeth. These details were so slight that Steve was sure only someone who had studied the brunet as much as he had would notice them, but as Steve met Sam’s disapproving eyes, Steve felt certain he did as well.

His gaze moved between them and the smile fell.

"Mr. Wilson?" he questioned, his eyes now on Sam.

Steve exhaled deeply, readying himself for what was to come.

"James," Sam began, his tone professional but the undertone of regret apparent. "I'm sure you're aware they have a new executive starting next month."

"Yes, sir," he answered, Bucky’s confusion evident. He watched as Sam began to move files into his briefcase, his eyes focused on his task.

"I've decided to transfer you to his office."

Bucky's POV

Bucky’s stomach dropped.

"Excuse me?" Bucky asked, turning to look at Steve, positive he'd heard Sam wrong. "I don't understand."

The moment Bucky met the blond’s expression, he knew. Bucky closed his eyes as he felt his world fall apart around him.

"You'll be on paid administrative leave until then-"

"Sam." Steve's impassioned plea cut him off.

Sam glared at him reproachfully before closing his briefcase and continuing.

"I'm not discussing this any further. Steve can answer any questions you have," he said with an air of finality.

Bucky’s eyes fell to the floor, the sting of tears threatening to escape.

He wouldn't do this, not here.

Angry with himself and determined to regain his composure, Bucky hardened his expression; straightening his back and lifting his chin to meet Sam’s gaze. Bucky could feel his heart pounding in his ears, his skin felt hot and uncomfortable and his nails dug painfully into his palm, but Bucky wouldn't break down.

Sam’s expression softened slightly, and it only deepened Bucky's shame. Bucky couldn't blame Sam for what he was doing; if anything, Bucky deserved much worse. He'd seen other employees fired for infractions far less severe, and Bucky knew that his job and reputation were only being spared because of Bucky's relationship with Sam and the other corporate CEO’s.

Knowing that and having disappointed him hurt worse than Bucky could ever have imagined.

"Yes, sir," Bucky answered, his voice trembling slightly.

Bucky heard Steve sigh next to him and saw his head drop in his peripheral vision, but Bucky didn't look away.

Sam looked at the brunet for a moment longer and Bucky was instantly reminded of his mother and how she would react if she knew how he'd behaved. The tense silence seemed to stretch on until Sam cleared his throat and stood from his chair.

"I have a meeting I need to get to," he said, his eyes moving to Steve. "I'll explain your absence and expect to see you at the house tonight."

Once again, his tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. Steve muttered something in acknowledgment and Sam nodded, retrieving his briefcase from the desk and making his way to the door.

The soft click as it closed echoed in the silent room. Bucky continued to stare unseeingly at the vacant chair, not trusting himself to speak or consider what was really happening.

"Bucky," Steve said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"No," Bucky started with a slight shake of his head. "Don't do that. I'm an adult, Steve. I knew exactly what I was getting into."

"But I shouldn't-"

"Don't," Bucky said, cutting him off, pleading with him not to apologize for what they had. "How..?"

Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to know how Sam had found out. When Bucky thought about it, there were so many times they should have been caught, each possibility more humiliating than the last.

With a heavy sigh, Steve stepped towards the window, his hands running through his hair. "Seattle," he began, the bitterness already apparent in his voice. "That night I left and had dinner downtown…the night you stayed…I ran into an old college friend at dinner."

Steve shook his head and laughed sharply, the sound harsh and ugly in the silence. "I had no idea he was staying in the same hotel." He paused, pressing his palm against the glass. "Apparently he saw us together…leaving the elevator after being on the roof."

Bucky’s stomach dropped as he remembered the moment with perfect clarity. Bucky recalled the feel of Steve’s lips on his as they kissed and stumbled, making their way to his room. He had seemed uncharacteristically carefree as he touched him, each of them lost in the other, completely unaware that they were being watched.

Bucky nodded robotically.

"I'm not sure why he came to Sam, although I'd be lying if I said I was surprised."

"Why?" Bucky asked numbly, knowing the answer didn't matter.

"He mentioned something about wanting a move to New York…I just…" Steve laughed again humorlessly, his hand dragging roughly across his chin. "I guess he has no qualms about cutting throats in an attempt to get to the top."

Bucky nodded again, more to himself than as a response to anything Steve said. One by one the pieces began to fall together and suddenly, the panic that had been flitting on the edges of Bucky's mind began to make itself known. Sam knew and Peggy would know. Bucky's sister would probably find out, as well as everyone at the company when the news of Bucky's transfer was announced. His new boss…everyone would think that he…Bucky felt himself sway slightly and leaned forward to grip the desk, attempting to swallow as a wave of nausea swept over him. Bucky's stomach began to churn, and although he felt like he was gasping, no air seemed to be reaching his lungs. His throat felt dry, as if it was tightening with each labored breath and his body began to tremble with the effort.

"Bucky?" Steve turned and began to walk towards him, the worry unmistakable in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Bucky shook his head and closed his eyes, attempting to calm his breathing; the sound of his pulse pounded in his ears.

"I know how you must feel, but-"

"You what?" Bucky asked a spark of anger igniting in his chest at Steve’s words.

"I know how you must feel," he said again, stopping in front of the brunet and taking his hands in his. "But it will be fine. We'll get through this and it will all be fine."

"How can you say that?" Bucky asked, shocked at his nonchalance and tore his hands from Steve. "How can you say it will be fine?"

"Because it will be," he answered, keeping his tone calm. "This will blow over, everyone will forget. Don't let them win, Bucky."

An angry tear slipped down Bucky's cheek at the suggestion that he was somehow giving up, letting the proverbial them win.

"Bucky, I need you to calm down." He placed his hands on either side of Bucky's face and looked into his eyes. "There are people out there," he said, motioning towards the outer office. "And this isn't the place to have this discussion."

Bucky nodded, knowing Steve was right and instinctively leaned into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing Bucky's forehead against his chest. Bucky shivered slightly as his arms encircled him, pulling the younger man to him as if he could protect him from anything.

If only Steve could.

Bucky held him closer as Steve’s lips brushed against his hair, taking comfort in his touch, his smell, his closeness. For one small moment Bucky felt the world and the weight of the last few minutes slip away. Bucky loved him and he let Steve love him in return.

The initial panic receded briefly as Bucky stood wrapped in his embrace. Bucky's lungs seemed to open, the wild thumping of his heart slowing to a near normal pace as Steve’s palm made small circles on Bucky's back.

"I love you, Bucky," he murmured into Bucky's hair. "It will be okay. Somehow things will work out."

Closing his eyes tightly against the tears, Bucky nodded silently; His ability to translate his jumbled, erratic thoughts into words seemed to have left him.

Our moment of peace was short-lived as hushed voices began to filter in from the reception area.

Steve cleared his throat and pulled away slightly, and peering into Bucky's eyes.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows were drawn together, the worry evident in his pained expression.

"I just…" Bucky began, his brief respite of calm beginning to slip. "I need to go." Bucky's voice was nothing more than a whisper and the blond’s concern seemed to deepen.

"Bucky-"

Bucky shook his head. "I can't…it's just too much right now"

Steve straightened and sighed deeply. "Can I see you tonight?"

Bucky attempted to swallow around the lump in his throat. His mouth felt dry, and Bucky found himself once again fighting the urge to be sick. His eyes fell to the floor briefly, and Bucky wrapped his arms around his body as Bucky sought to hold himself together.

"I just…" Bucky began, only to have the words vanish from his mind. Bucky shook his head again and pressed his palms to Steve’s chest. "I just need to go for a little bit. I promise I'll call."

The brunet turned to leave, only to be pulled back into Steve’s arms, his hand gripping Bucky's neck and his mouth finding his. Steve kissed him passionately, his lips demanding, his hands tangling into Bucky's hair, pulling him in.

"I love you," he breathed against the younger man. His hand slipped down Bucky's neck and shoulder to grasp Bucky's hand and bring it to his chest, over his heart. "Please remember that."

"I love you too," Bucky said softly, his voice trembling.

Stepping away, Bucky looked back at him briefly. Steve’s expression was grim as he watched him walk away, his eyes tight and full of concern.

As Bucky entered the outer office, there was no doubt they'd been heard. The others in the room were scattered around, conveniently busy with tasks that allowed them to avoid making eye contact. Bucky walked quickly to his office to retrieve his briefcase, making sure not to pass anyone on the way. He quickly reached his car and pulled out of the garage, beginning the familiar route to his apartment.

The world seemed to blur around him as Bucky drove, finally allowing the tears to fall freely down his face, the sobs amplified in the silent interior. He replayed the scene in Sam's office, the way he had avoided Bucky's eyes, a hint of having been betrayed resonating in his voice. It was as if he had disappointed his own mother and Bucky was unsure whether he would be able to fix it. Another sob broke from Bucky's chest as he imagined him telling Peggy and the others.

Tony would find out for real. An utter feeling of anguish settled over Bucky when he considered how far-reaching his actions would be, and it was all Bucky could do to make it home and drag himself out of the car and to the elevator.

As his apartment door closed behind him and Bucky took in the familiar space, he closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the warmth and safety of his home to comfort him.

Bucky found silence rather than comfort, emptiness rather than security. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, his eyes drifting to the pizza stone sitting on the counter, the clean plates and wine glasses from last night next to it. He remembered joking with Steve in this very room, the stolen kisses, and the laughter. Bucky saw them sitting in his living room, his head in Bucky's lap as he told him stories.

The brunet’s heart ached for how he must be feeling, and he wiped his damp cheek as another round of silent tears fell.

Bucky made his way to his room, ignoring the couch they had made love on, and stopped at his bedroom door. The sight of his unmade bed, the tangled sheets and his discarded clothing still forgotten on the floor, was just another physical reminder of how perfect everything had been only hours before.

Moving to the bed, Bucky kicked off his shoes and moving to lie down, Bucky's face pressed against the very pillow Steve had slept on. His scent clung to the soft cotton, bringing with it the ache Bucky always felt when they were apart.

Still dressed but uncaring, Bucky pulled the thick down comforter over him, burying himself in its warmth.

Bucky knew eventually he would get over the embarrassment; he could live with the looks and the questions, but what about Steve? They'd disagreed in Sam's office over how people would react, and it had hurt that he was so quick to disregard Bucky's feelings. Could he live with the things people would inevitably say about Bucky? People were going to talk, whether Steve believed they would or not.

The tears had subsided briefly, Bucky's sobs having ebbed into the occasional sigh and sniffle. Bucky huddled into the safety of his bed, Steve's smell all around him lulling him into a sort of comforting numbness.

His emotions were so conflicted; anger battled fear and dread, each one overtaking him briefly before a shift would occur and Bucky's thoughts would wander. Bucky was angry at the man who had used their lives as pawns to prove himself. Bucky was angry at Steve for his naive optimism that things would work out and even angrier at himself for allowing things to go this far. Looking back, Bucky saw all the foolish mistakes he had made to simply be near him. Bucky should have asked for a transfer or quit or even stayed away.

He thought about it more, he'd never be able to stay away. He'd been so scared; worried Steve would only want him for a physical relationship, thinking he could only be with Steve as long as he stayed. Bucky had never imagined that the blond could actually return Bucky's feelings.

He thought back to how they'd been this morning; the tender touches, the passionate kisses. The hours of exploring each other's bodies, feeling Steve inside of him, wrapped in his unwavering embrace. The absolute adoration in his eyes whenever he caught Bucky's gaze. He knew Steve loved him; but would it be enough? Would he tire of the obstacles in their way?

Bucky must have dozed at some point and was awakened by the low beep of his cell phone. Leaning over the edge of the bed, retrieving it, five new text messages and four missed calls.

The texts were from Steve, asking if Bucky was home, making sure Bucky was okay and asking him to call him when Bucky could. The calls were from Natasha, and Bucky's stomach clenched with anxiety as he wondered why she had called him so many times in the last fifteen minutes.

Bucky called Steve first, his stomach sinking as it went straight to voicemail. Bucky left a simple message and hung up to call Natasha, jumping as the phone beeped in his hand, the words 'Natasha Romanoff Work' appearing on the caller ID.

Swallowing loudly, Bucky took a deep breath and answered.

"Oh my God! Bucky! Thank God you picked up. What the hell is going on?" she practically shouted into the phone.

"Hi, Natasha," Bucky answered timidly.

"Bucky, what's going on? Mr. Rogers is in with Tony and…" She paused and Bucky knew it was worse than he thought. Bucky could only imagine what he was facing in there.

"I can hear bits and pieces and…Bucky," her voice dropped, her tone apologetic. "They're talking about you."

"I know," Bucky replied softly, surprised by how strange it felt to not deny it. "I'm so sorry, Nat."

"Bucky, you don't have to apologize to me. I'm your friend, regardless of what else is going on." Bucky realized again how lucky he was to have her in his life.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me." A sharp knock came from the living room." Listen, Natasha, I have to go. Someone's here, but I promise to call you later."

They said their goodbyes and Bucky walked down the hall to the door, surprised to be faced with a man holding a huge vase of the most beautiful arrangement flowers he'd ever seen.

"Bucky Barnes?"

"Yes?"

He nodded and handed the brunet a clipboard. Bucky signed quickly, handing it back to him and taking the flowers in exchange.

"Thank you," Bucky said absentmindedly, shutting the door.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he walked into the kitchen, the delicate scent of orchids and calla lilies filling the large room. Placing the vase on the counter, Bucky began looking for the card.

Bucky’s heart raced as he opened the small envelope tucked inside the profuse blooms, Bucky's mind temporarily unfocused on his problems. He bit his lip nervously, unabashedly excited at the prospect that Steve might have sent him flowers.

‘For the man of my dreams.

Love, Steve’

He couldn't help but smile softly as he read the card.

For the man of my dreams.

Those words would have filled Bucky with such joy this morning, but now, as beautiful and heartfelt as they were, they struck a chord of anxiety in his chest. Leaning in again, Bucky inhaled deeply, letting the sweet scent wash over him, thankful for this small moment of respite.

Replacing the card, Bucky moved the vase to his dining room table and sat in contemplative silence, wondering how Steve always seemed to know exactly what Bucky needed.

He'd been feeling apprehensive about his feelings, and Steve had somehow found a way to tell Bucky he loved him in the exact moment Bucky needed him to. He'd been worried about Bucky's place in his life.

Even now as Bucky worried about his future, disappointed in himself and how he had hurt the people around him, Steve had somehow managed to bring a smile to Bucky's face.

Glancing at the time again, Bucky groaned. There was no way he could sit here and wait to see what was happening. Bucky needed a distraction and debated his options, finally deciding on a drive to take his mind off things.

He drove to the outskirts of the city, the windows down, the music up, and thought about everything that had happened. Was it really only hours ago that Bucky had been on this same road with him? Bucky thought over their conversation, the way Steve had lost his temper as Bucky mentioned Alex and the way he'd yelled back in return. Bucky remembered the way he'd pressed him against the window in his office and the way Bucky's body had reacted despite Bucky's anger.

He remembered the way Steve had taken him on his desk, each of them so lost in the other that they'd forgotten the world existed outside of them. He'd asked Bucky to go to Paris and initially he'd been thrilled, but as he mentioned Christmas time, Bucky realized that Steve still planned on things being a secret months from now.

Had Bucky thought that far ahead? He'd needed time, but what were Bucky's plans for telling everyone? Had Bucky envisioned them still being a secret? Bucky shook his head as he realized that wouldn't be a consideration now.

Everyone would know soon. Bucky could only pray that the two of them were strong enough together to survive it.

\---

An hour later, the elevator doors opened and Bucky saw Steve at the end of the hall. He was muttering to himself, his jacket and tie on the floor, his hands running nervously through his hair as he paced in front of Bucky's door. How long had he been here?

Bucky got within ten feet of him when he stopped, turning suddenly and clearing the distance between them in only a few steps to take the younger man in his arms. "Bucky," he breathed, his lips pressing into Bucky's hair as he held him close.

Bucky hummed in response, his body relaxing instantly against Steve as Bucky wrapped his arms around his neck.

Closing his eyes, Bucky gave himself to the moment; relishing in the feel of his hard body pressed against his, the way he smelled and the rightness of being in his arms. Bucky felt his heart pound against his own chest, Steve’s warm breath in his hair and his fingers as they traced small circles where he held the brunet.

"I love you," Bucky sighed and placed a kiss against his neck.

Steve’s hand held the back of Bucky's head as his eyes searched his face. Bucky tried to read his expression. Steve seemed anxious, his brows knitted and his jaw locked, and it did nothing to calm the sense of unease looming over Bucky. Bucky placed his palm on his face, his thumb lightly smoothing the crease in Steve’s brow. Bucky exhaled, a small sense of relief washing over him as he felt the blond’s features soften under Bucky's touch.

"Thank you," Steve said quietly. Bucky nodded, understanding that he was thanking him for more than his declaration of love.

"You're welcome," Bucky answered, his breath hitching as his thumb traced Bucky's bottom lip, his gaze falling to his mouth.

In small, almost tentative movements, Steve leaned into him, his soft lips brushing against his for the briefest of moments before pulling away. He hesitated, their mouths hovering just a breath apart, his chest rising and falling in time with the brunet’s.

Steve breathed into his mouth and Bucky shivered, his lips so close Bucky could taste them, his breath warm and sweet on his tongue. Bucky sensed a moment of uncertainty and moved to pull back, wanting to look into his eyes and question him. His grip tightened, a small shake of his head causing Bucky to relent.

"Stay," Steve murmured into Bucky's mouth, tilting his head, his lips sweeping over mine.

Without a word, Bucky could sense that something had changed. Steve was hesitant, treating the younger man as if he might break or run away. Bucky's anxiety increased, his mind racing with the possibilities of what could have happened.

"Ste-" Bucky started to question, the edge of panic already evident in that one small word. His other hand moved to cup Bucky's face, his thumb moving between them to press against his lips.

"Shh. Can we…can we just be us?" he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth.

"For just a little while? I promise, I will tell you everything," Steve paused, his head tilting to brush his lips softly along Bucky’s. "But right now, I need to have this. Please."

His simple plea broke through Bucky's worry and he moved to close the small distance between them to press his lips fully to his. Steve moaned softly at the contact, increasing the pressure but never deepening the kiss. Bucky felt cradled in his hands, his love and adoration evident even now in the chaste and gentle way his lips pressed against his own.

He pulled away slowly, pressing one final kiss against Bucky's forehead before meeting his eyes.

"Can we go inside?"

"Of course," Bucky whispered, kissing him softly once more. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, Steve motioned towards the doorway, picking up his tie and jacket from the floor. He stood behind the younger man then, taking Bucky's hand as he unlocked the door. Steve walked inside and tossed his jacket to the chair, leading them both wordlessly to the couch, sitting with his back against the armrest and his long legs stretching out along the cushions. Guiding Bucky down, he crawled into his lap, Bucky's head resting in the crook of his neck. Bucky sighed as he wrapped his arms around the brunet.

Bucky closed his eyes and tried to enjoy his closeness, pushing aside all the worries and frustrations for the moment.

His pulse thrummed beneath Bucky's ear, his body rising and falling softly with each breath as they sat in comfortable silence. Placing a kiss on Bucky's nose, his fingers moved down his side, resting on the expanse of skin visible above his waistband. Bucky shivered slightly, a path of goosebumps following his touch as he moved under Bucky's shirt to his ribs and back down. Steve drew lazy circles on his back as Bucky toyed with the buttons on the front of his shirt, Bucky's hand curving to the muscle and smooth planes of his chest and abdomen.

"Why do you love me?" he asked quietly.

Bucky frowned slightly, surprised by his question.

"Because you let me be who I am and love me because of it," Bucky whispered against his neck. "You're brilliant and kind. You're funny and sexy. You make me feel handsome and smart," Bucky paused, placing a small kiss below his ear. "You make me want to be everything for you."

Steve’s breathing stopped and he swallowed, the muscles in his neck flexing against Bucky's lips.

"You are everything to me," he countered, moving to look into Bucky's eyes. "You know that, right?"

"I do," Bucky answered honestly. He knew they had so far to go, so many things to overcome, but his love was something he no longer questioned.

"Bucky," he began, turning his body into him slightly and pulling Bucky's head back down to his shoulder.

"It wasn't my intention to demean your concerns earlier. I would never do that, I just…this isn't how I wanted people to find out about us," Steve said tenderly, his voice apologetic. He had one hand now running through Bucky's hair, while the other brushed up and down his arm.

"I know," Bucky said softly, his fingers dipping into the open collar of his shirt, skimming along the light dusting of hair. Despite how their tempers often got the better of them, Bucky knew in his heart that Steve hadn't meant to be condescending.

"I think this can be a good thing, Bucky."

"A good thing?" Bucky asked confused, not understanding how he could possibly see this as being a good thing.

"Yes, they won't have to hide anymore." Bucky felt his frustration ebb with his words as Bucky imagined the possibility. "Things can just be normal."

"What does normal mean? We've never done normal before. Do we even know how?" Bucky questioned, a hint of fear seeping into his voice.

"We've done normal, we've just always hidden it," he said softly, his lips brushing Bucky's cheek. Bucky nodded, understanding what he meant. His chest ached as Bucky remembered the quiet moments they'd shared, watching movies together, cooking dinner, learning about the other moments just like this.

Bucky wanted a lifetime of those.

"And I know this upset you earlier," Steve began tentatively. "But you don't need that job. I can take care of you."

"I don't want you to have to take care of me," Bucky countered, his tone edged in frustration. "I want to succeed on my own. I realize it may not seem like a career to you, but my job is important to me."

"I know that, baby, and I understand," Steve said, his hand moving to rest on Bucky's hip. "But I don't think people will react the way you think they will."

"How can you say that?" Bucky asked, pushing him away slightly to sit up. "Steve, you may not think that people are going to talk, but you're wrong. You need to prepare yourself for it instead of living in this dream world where you assume everyone will be happy that they love each other."

Steve’s face contorted slightly as he sat up and turned toward the younger man. "I'm not naive, Bucky. I know not everyone will understand, but I really don't think it will be as bad as you think."

"Steve, you need to take a step back. Put yourself on the outside and think of how you would react seeing two people in our situation. Think about how you would see them; think about what your opinion would be of them. Your perspective comes from sitting in your big office, as a CEO."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Steve asked through narrowed eyes, his tone sharp and bordering on anger.

"What it means is that you're a CEO and I'm your assistant. The world is going to judge us by two different standards, Steve. No matter what. Because you're an important man, you'll always be known as the guy who slept with his secretary. It's such a minor executive cliche that it's not even worth judgment anymore."

Bucky could feel himself getting angrier by the second, no longer because of the situation, but because of his casual dismissal of it.

"And because I'm working under you, I'll always be known as the gold-digging slut who slept with his boss to get ahead."

"So in turn, you're saying that because I'm a owner of this company, you don't think it's possible that me could be equally as embarrassed by this as you are?" Steve glared at Bucky, his chest heaving and his expression furious.

The brunet flinched, not having ever considered that Steve could be embarrassed by this as well.

Steve stood and began pacing the room, his hands moving roughly into his hair.

"I understand that you're upset, but Bucky just…" Steve stopped in front of the fireplace, "You can't allow other people to drive a wedge between what we have."

"I'm not allowing anything," Bucky said, standing as well. "But I want you to be prepared, you need to be prepared. Because eventually, someone somewhere is going to say something, whether it's to you or behind your back or even to me about what happened. Someone is going to call me a slut or call my integrity into question, and I need to be sure that you can handle that. Because regardless of what you think, it will happen. I've seen it happen in this very company. I don't understand why you're not getting it. Is it because you really don't see it or you don't want to? Because honestly, the fact that you aren't even trying to understand is what is hurting me the most right now!"

"Bucky, that's not what I meant at all," he started, but Bucky instantly cut him off.

"How am I ever going to face your friends again? What about my sister? Or Tony?" Bucky shot back, angry tears beginning to build in his eyes. "Judging from your face, I assume that conversation didn't go over well."

Steve’s forehead creased and he eyed the brunet questioningly, his hand coming up to rub along a faint bruise forming on his jaw. "How did you know I talked to him?"

"Natasha called," Bucky replied pointedly. "And that's another thing. How am I ever going to walk back into that building again? Look my colleagues, my friends in the eye, and not feel their judgments being laid down upon me? How will you? Regardless of what we feel for each other, it's not going to matter in the grand scheme of things, Steve. Not to them. It will always be the boss and his assistant. Always."

"And you're just thinking of this now, Bucky?" Steve retorted, driving his hands into his hair in frustration only to have them fall roughly to his sides a moment later.

"I knew from that very first time that all this could happen, but imagining it and living it are two very different things. That's why you have to be prepared, and I need to know that you won't let this drive a wedge between us…that you won't tire of the looks or the whispers and decide it's not worth it."

Bucky wiped at his eyes angrily, attempting to brush away the tears that were now falling down his face.

"I don't want to be the next Lorraine," Bucky cried, a sob breaking in his chest. "I don't want to be the one you tell the next person about with no other explanation than 'it just ended'."

Steve flinched, his face contorting as if he'd been slapped. Exhaling deeply, his eyes fell to the floor. They stood apart from each other in silence. Bucky's body trembled with repressed emotions. When Steve looked up, his face had paled, his features tensed.

"Bucky, I…" he said quietly, his voice weak and shaking slightly.

"No," Bucky snapped, shaking his head. "I can't do this right now. You need to go to Sam and Tony and deal with this and I…" Bucky paused, feeling himself tremble, a deep sigh shuddering through him. "I just need some time."

He nodded, his gaze locked with the younger man’s, his jaw clenched. "Can I come back over tonight?"

Pain ripped through Bucky, nearly taking his breath away. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Okay," Steve answered quietly. "If that's what you want."

It wasn't what Bucky wanted. What Bucky wanted more than anything was to run into his arms and feel comforted by his touch. But Bucky couldn't. Not talking, not thinking was how they'd ended up like this to begin with.

They stood for another moment before Steve walked over and picked up his jacket, stopping next to Bucky on his way to the door. His fingers brushed his arm and moved down to his hand.

"I love you, Bucky," he said softly.

"Loving you isn't the problem," Bucky answered, his eyes on the floor. Steve leaned in and kissed the side of his head, his lips lingering in Bucky's hair. The younger man closed his eyes, another fresh wave of tears spilling from beneath his lids, and Bucky bit his lip to keep himself from stopping Steve.

With a resigned sigh, Steve straightened and walked to the door, closing it softly behind him.

The quiet click of the latch seemed to echo throughout Bucky's empty apartment.

Bucky stood feeling as if he were rooted to the spot after he'd left, the tears falling silently down his cheeks. Bucky swayed slightly, exhaustion and despair threatening to overwhelm him. Walking slowly to the door, Bucky turned the lock and pressed his cheek against the cool wood.

The elevator chimed from down the hall and Bucky heard the doors open. Closing his eyes tightly, a sob shook his body as he pictured Steve stepping inside and disappearing from his sight. The succession of chimes filtered through the door again signaling it's decent to the lobby.

Bucky walked quickly to his room, stumbling as he tried to see through his teary vision, and collapsed on his bed. Once again Bucky buried himself under the blankets and cried himself to sleep.

\---

Sometime later, Bucky awoke. With closed eyes, his hand slid along the cool sheets out of habit, recoiling instantly as he felt only the empty spot beside him. In that moment, reality slipped quickly back into Bucky's consciousness and he rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Bucky was unsure of the time, the sun having gone down and his room now blanketed in darkness and moonlight. His throat was sore, his mouth dry, and his face left raw from his unending tears. Bucky's body shook in the silence, his blurry eyes attempting to focus on the flashing light from across the room. With a heavy sigh, Bucky reluctantly crawled out of bed and picked up his phone, taking it with him back under the covers. Bucky's chest shuddered as he wiped his eyes with the sheet and pressed the message icon on his phone.

Message after message from Steve waited for him, all bringing another wave of fresh tears with them.

6:32 pm – I still remember the first moment I realized I loved you.

6:44 pm – I know I've kept things from you. I'll tell you everything. Please give me the chance.

7:12 pm – I want to be your everything too.

9:35 pm – I'm sorry. I understand now.

10:32 pm – Please say you still love me.

Running Bucky's finger along the screen, it broke his heart to imagine the desperation Steve must have felt as he typed those words. Bucky loved him wholly, with every fiber of his being and every breath that he took. Steve consumed Bucky's body and every thought he had. The prospect of his life without Steve was crippling.

Bucky looked at the time, the last message had been sent twelve minutes ago. Steve would be up, waiting for him to respond.

Would Steve really tell him everything? Did Steve really understand? Bucky rolled over in bed and looked out into the darkness, his phone cradled against him. For the first time, a spark of hope ignited in his chest.

Bucky loved him, absolutely. Bucky knew in his heart that there would never be anyone else for him.

He thought back to Natasha's words. Was Steve worth risking everything?

Without a doubt.

Even before realizing that Bucky loved him, he'd known that his life had been forever changed. He'd always known and accepted that when Steve was gone, he would take Bucky's heart with him.

Closing his eyes, Bucky remembered the way he'd asked why Bucky loved him, the timid and unsure tone of his voice that he'd never heard before. Bucky thought back to his answers, feeling the truth of them even now.

Glancing at the clock again, Bucky considered sending him a text. Maybe Bucky could call him, or even… Bucky pictured the look of surprise on his face as he opened the door to find him there, the way he would take the brunet in his arms and kiss him. Bucky sat up, the ache in his chest already beginning to recede. Reaching for his pillow, Bucky held it to him, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Steve’s scent still clung to the material and Bucky remembered how it felt to lay next to him, his warm skin pressed against Bucky's naked body, the way he touched him and whispered tenderly in the dark.

Bucky reread his texts, and his mind was made up.

He would go to Steve. Bucky would tell him that he wanted to be his, for as long as Steve wanted.

Climbing out of bed, Bucky washed his face and fixed his hair, putting his phone in his pocket before stepping out the door. Bucky made it to his car and pulled out of the garage, thankful for the light traffic at this hour. In no time flat Bucky was pulling up, returning a small smile as the doorman greeted him and opened the door for him to proceed inside.

His nerves began to get the better of him as Bucky passed through the gleaming bronze elevator doors.

Pressing the button for Steve’s floor, Bucky retrieved his phone again and reread his texts, attempting to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. The lift came to a stop, and Bucky took a final calming breath before stepping out into the elegant, brightly lit hallway.

Bucky stopped abruptly at the sight before him.

Just down the hall, Steve stood outside his door, his hands holding the face of a beautiful blonde woman.

Bucky blinked several times, sure that this couldn't be real, hoping a different sight awaited him each time he opened them. Bucky's mind told him there had to be an explanation, there was no way this could be what it appeared to be, but his heart…he saw that she had been crying, but these were happy tears. She smiled at him adoringly, and he smiled back.

They whispered to each other and Bucky watched as Steve brought her left hand to his mouth, placing a single kiss on the back of her fingers. She leaned in and whispered, his arms wrapped around her, their bodies rocking back and forth in the quiet hallway, oblivious to Bucky or anything else around them

His vision clouded as Bucky watched their tender embrace, the way her hands moved through his hair and how he buried his face into her neck.

Bucky shook his head as numbness crept over him. Bucky hadn't realized he'd moved until his back pressed against the interior of the elevator. With shaky fingers Bucky blindly pressed buttons, the doors closing quietly, taking the two of them from his line of sight.

The silence surrounded him, the only sound being the hum of the elevator as it moved through the shaft.

Was Bucky breathing?

The doors opened and Bucky stepped out.

"Mr. Barnes?" A voice called to him. "Mister, are you okay?"

Bucky shook his head and waved it off, continuing to his car.

Pulling out of the garage, Bucky made a left turn and headed down the empty street, moving as if on autopilot. He swiped his key card and pulled into the spot labeled 'Bucky Barnes' for what would be the last time.

The lobby was empty as Bucky made his way across the glossy floors to the familiar gold elevator, Bucky's mind focused on only one task.

The art deco light fixtures were dimmed, round pools of light stretched along the carpet. His mind drifted to another night like this. Bucky recalled hurried steps, his arms full of spreadsheets, and his focus on the man he knew would be waiting in the conference room down the hall.

Unlocking his office, Bucky stepped inside, turning on the small lamp that sat on his desk. His eyes scanned the room, seeing moments instead of things.

With a deep breath, Bucky crossed the room to Steve’s office, the scent of wood and leather and him filling the air. The city lights of New York City shone through the large windows and Bucky walked determinedly into his bathroom, removing an empty box from the shelf over his dry cleaning Bucky knew would be there. As he turned to leave, his eyes fell to a ball of discarded cotton behind the trash can. Bending to retrieve it, a searing pain crept through his chest, spreading out until it nearly consumed him.

Bucky held his shirt in his hands, his fingers touching the loose threads where the buttons had been torn loose. Without thinking, Bucky brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, taking him in. Eyes burning with unshed tears, he wiped at his cheeks out of pure habit.

Bucky fought with himself to toss his shirt aside, to do the smart thing just this once and push Steve away, but Bucky knew he couldn't. With a defeated sigh, he stood, carefully folding the material and stepping out of the bathroom.

Without another glance, Bucky returned to his own desk. The shirt was the first thing to go inside the box, quickly followed by the contents of his drawers.

"James?"

Bucky jumped and turned quickly, his stomach dropping to see Sam standing in the open doorway. He looked tired, his impeccably groomed appearance, slightly disheveled. His jaw was clenched, a deep crease stood between his brows and a pained expression on his face.

"Sam," Bucky began sheepishly, his gaze downcast. Bucky couldn't look at him; Bucky couldn't stand to see the disappointment in his eyes. "I didn't think anyone would be here."

"James," Sam sighed, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "I think we need to talk."


	18. New Beginnings

The door closed quietly, the soft click reverberating down the long hallway. Steve stood, the sound of his own breathing echoing in his ears; a stunned, pulsing silence all around him.  
His hand lingered, Steve's grasp tightening around the cool metal as if it was his last link to Bucky.

Steve couldn't bring himself to let go.

With a pained sigh, Steve finally loosened his hand, watching his fingers fall away and his arm drops heavily to his side. Steve couldn't seem to move. He wished more than anything that he could take it all back and still be standing beside Bucky. Steve ached for him with an intensity he'd never felt before as if he'd left a piece of himself on the other side of the door.

Reluctantly pushing away, Steve turned toward the elevator, surprised his feet could even move from the spot. In all the time that they had been together, he'd never turned Steve away. Even at the worst of times, when they did nothing but try to tear each other apart, Bucky had never said no.

And Steve never felt this empty.

Steve managed to make it to his car, ignoring faces and voices as he passed. His hand fumbled with the handle of the shiny black Porsche. The action usually gave him an adrenaline rush; now Steve longed only for the impending comfort as it sheltered him behind its dark, tinted glass.

Leaning his head back against the leather seat, his fists clenched painfully at his side, Steve stared unseeingly at the sunroof above him. The darkening sky and emerging stars did not register in his mind; his focus still lingered on the man sixteen floors above him, Bucky's red eyes and broken expression were burned forever in Steve's vision.

A break in the numbness appeared as Steve's fist collided with the steering wheel. The pain shooting up his arm was a welcome reprieve from the almost suffocating weight that had settled inside his chest.

Steve flexed his fingers and inspected the damage, wincing at his stupidity.

Closing his eyes, Steve attempted to fill his lungs. He breathed in deeply, but the smell of Bucky surrounded him and his chest expanded painfully. Suddenly the acute feeling of Bucky all around him and inside Steve's head overwhelmed him, the pain in his hand fading to a dull, throbbing ache.

It will be okay. It has to be okay.

Steve repeated the words in a rhythmic loop in his mind, clinging to them as if wanting it enough could bring it to fruition.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, the sound of the low buzz both startling and irritating him. Steve exhaled deeply, clenching his jaw and trying to halt any hope he had that it could be the brunet. Steve peered at it through tired eyes, the disappointment instant although expected as an unrecognized number he'd seen several times today appeared on the caller ID.

Kneading his temples, Steve clenched his jaw and exhaled forcefully, attempting to quell the rapid agitation he felt at the insistent unknown caller, the situation, himself…fuck, even Bucky. Steve couldn't deal with work right now. Hell, he couldn't deal with anyone right now. Without another thought, Steve silenced the call and tossed the annoyance onto the seat beside him.

Starting the car, Steve revved the engine, the soothing hum a momentary welcome distraction from the empty, hollow feeling that had settled in his stomach. Steve pressed the clutch and shifted smoothly, forcing himself to focus on the rhythm of changing gears and the gentle purring of the machine surrounding him. Driving toward the parking lot exit, Steve kept his eyes forward, his gaze never wavering to the familiar silver car parked on his right as Steve passed.

His tires squealed as Steve turned onto the busy street and he watched in his rearview mirror as the apartment building and the man it held faded into the distance. Steve began the familiar drive to Peggy’s home, knowing that what awaited him there would not be pleasant. Steve was torn between wanting to get this over with and just wanting to go home and drink himself into a stupor, forgetting this day had ever happened.

Pulling up in front of the large house, Steve shut off the engine and waited.

The minutes ticked by; the sky grew darker and yet, courage still eluded him. Sam had been furious today – restrained, but furious.

Tony on the other hand… Steve rubbed his jaw absentmindedly again and winced, remembering his expression of complete disbelief and betrayal when Tony had realized that he'd lied to him. Restraint had never been his strong point. It had most certainly eluded him today.

The one person Steve had yet to deal with was Peggy. Steve looked up at the house, glowing brightly in the fading light, his eyes focusing on the window of the room where he was sure she sat waiting for him. Knowing Steve was being a coward, he put his phone in his pocket and climbed out, moving slowly up the illuminated walkway. If Steve could handle Sam, Tony, and Bucky angry in one day, Steve could certainly handle this…he hoped.

Steve reached the door and knocked on the solid wood. When no answer came, he knew he was to let himself in. He entered the house and made his way to the staircase. Steve's hand ran along the smooth mahogany banister, the wood familiar and comforting under his palm. Steve reached the third floor and continued down the hall, pausing as he passed the infrequently used door. Unable to turn away, Steve turned the antique knob, compelled to see it again.

Steve stepped into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him, flipping the switch and squinting as the room became bathed in artificial light.

Everything looked as it did that day, minus the sunlight streaming in through the open window, the breeze gently lifting the gauzy curtain, and the man Steve loved meeting his gaze in the dressing table mirror.

Steve remembered how possessive he'd felt that afternoon, how he'd wanted to claim Bucky and mark Bucky as Steve's own. Had Steve loved Bucky's even then? Had Bucky already captured Steve's heart with the same unbreakable hold he'd had on Steve's body?

His fingers traced the phone in his pocket, Steve's desire to give Bucky what he'd asked for -time- battling with Steve's need to stay connected to him.

Steve slipped the phone out and typed the words haunting his mind.

‘I still remember the first moment I realized I loved you.’

Steve pressed send without hesitation. He didn't expect Bucky to answer, and he shook his head realizing Bucky's phone would most likely be off. Regardless, the simple act of telling him everything, even in small pieces over the phone, afforded him a small bit of comfort.

Steve turned, placing his hand on the door, and closed his eyes as he remembered roughly pressing Bucky's eager body against it.

"You see, he wants something that's mine, and he can't have it."

Steve recalled how it felt to say those words out loud, how the truth buried in his growl had pulled something primal from inside of him.

"I can do anything I want, Mr. Rogers," Bucky had replied, although Steve could hear the uncertainty in his voice even then. "And I am not yours."

Steve smiled in spite of his mood. Was that true? Or had Bucky already belonged to him in the same way that Steve had belonged to him? Steve walked to the table, his fingers running over the small glass bottles placed there, remembering the sound they'd made as he'd taken Bucky against it. He'd been unrelenting, almost cruel as he'd spoken to the brunet.

"Do you want him?" Steve had asked roughly as rage began to boil inside him. "Answer me." Bucky's eyes had borne into the blond’s, Bucky's chest heaving, but he didn't speak ."Do you see him?" Steve had asked as his hands slid down the younger man’s sides. "Look at him." Steve's fingers moved down Bucky's abdomen, along his belt, and to his thighs. "Does he make you feel like this?"

Steve had taken Bucky with such force, wanting to punish him for tormenting Steve, for filling his head with images of what Steve couldn't have.

Now when Steve thought of the things he'd done…his stomach dropped and a wave of nausea coursed through him as he remembered. Why hadn't Steve just told him? Why hadn't he been honest…about everything? Steve's fear of what he'd felt had brought out something cowardly and frightened in him, propelling him to protect any feeling Steve had. It was so unlike him and yet it defined their entire beginning.

Bucky’s words from tonight replayed in Steve's mind.

"Steve, I don't want to be the next Lorraine. I don't want to be the one you tell the next person about with no other explanation than 'it just ended'."

Steve leaned on the table, sitting on the small stool, his eyes closed tightly against the image of Bucky's tear-stained face. Steve had done that…and Bucky was right. Bucky expected him to hide how Steve felt because he had. Bucky expected dissemblance and vague answers. How many times had Bucky attempted to ask him? How many times had he shut Bucky's down or evaded an answer? Steve wouldn't make that same mistake again.

Steve sent another message, praying when Bucky saw it that he'd believe him.

'I know I've kept things from you. I'll tell you everything. Please give me the chance.'

Taking a deep breath, Steve stood, steadying himself before he walked to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned, letting his eyes travel around the room again, silently promising himself that if given the chance, he'd make it right.

Stepping into the hall, Steve continued toward the music room, the soft notes of a piano drifting through the closed door. Steve knocked softly and Peggy called for him to enter. Steve stepped into the room and she sat with her back to the blond, her fingers moving gracefully over the keys, and even now Steve was unable to stop the small smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

She paused and turned, silently motioning for him to sit beside her. Steve walked across the room as she resumed playing, taking a seat on the bench next to her. They sat in silence for several minutes, the notes of the perfectly tuned instrument and Peggy’s melody the only sound between them. Her playing slowed, drifting into something calm and soft, and Steve felt her sigh beside him.

"I'm sorry," Steve breathed as he watched her fingers run along the keys.

"This isn't how you were raised, Steve," Bucky murmured, Bucky's voice calm yet ringing with disappointment. “What would Sarah think if she was here?”

"I know, I know."

"And this has been going on for how long?"

Steve placed his palms on his thighs, attempting to still the nervous fidgeting. "Months, weeks…I'm not even sure."

"When Bucky was here for dinner?" Peggy asked in a knowing tone.

Steve grimaced and swallowed. "Yes."

"Hmm."

Her seemingly indifferent reaction took him by surprise, and Steve tilted his head to see her; his face contorted in frustration as Steve attempted to decipher her expression.

Her voice remained quiet and controlled. "That explains a few things, I suppose. But not everything. "

"I know," Steve began, running his fingers through his hair roughly. "I was such an ass to him."

"To be honest, the very first time I met James, I fell in love with him. He reminded me so much of you…" Peggy said, her voice wistful and far away for a moment. "But I gave up on that thought the moment I saw the two of you together. It was obvious almost immediately that you two were toxic for each other. Despite my attempts to smooth things over, it seemed as if it only got worse. I never dreamed…" She trailed off again briefly and then sighed. "As I said, I guess it makes sense now." Peggy shook her head slightly, running her fingers between the black keys.

"I only know what Sam has told me." Peggy paused, her fingers stilling mid-movement. "But I want to hear it from you, Steve. Help me understand. How do you feel about him?"

"I love him, Peggy. More than anything," Steve answered immediately. She nodded slowly as she digested Steve's answer.

"And James?"

Steve paused, his eyes downcast, closing as a moment of doubt entered his mind for the first time.

"Yes," Steve answered softly.

"Yes?" Peggy bent forward to catch Steve’s gaze.

"I mean…he did. We've both said it, but…" Steve trailed off, unable to articulate the fear that had been growing steadily since leaving Bucky's apartment.

The room fell into silence as Peggy turned, taking Steve's hand in hers.

"Tell me."

Steve swallowed and exhaled deeply, focusing on the comfort and warmth of Peggy’s hand. "I…I haven't been honest about everything, about the way I treated him in the past, about Lorraine…" Steve trailed off, seeing how each mistake trumped the one before it. "About a lot of things."

She waited for him to continue, but what more could Steve possibly say? He had done so many things wrong, and he had absolutely no idea how he could make it right again. After a long moment, Peggy drew in a slow, deep breath and gave Steve's hand a gentle squeeze.

"If you struggled with your feelings so much and felt so torn, Steve, I wish you had come talk to me. I wish you had come talk to any of us who know you." Peggy’s eyes fell, a pained look returning to her features.

Steve was reminded again of the pain that he had caused the two most important people in Steve's life by being selfish, and his chest constricted. He began to talk, explaining every detail he could to her: the attraction he'd felt to Bucky for so long, the inescapable draw Bucky held for him, the realization in Seattle that Steve truly loved him, and everything between them that had only deepened since. As good as it felt to finally tell someone about this, voicing everything that Steve had ever censored with Bucky, it still left so many things unfinished; the one person who needed to hear these things was the man who had been hurt by them the most.

Steve had no idea how long they sat there talking, or how long they sat in silence afterward before Peggy linked her arm through the blond’s and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"He loves you, Steve. There's not a doubt in my mind about that. But you need to make this right, and I have every faith that you will." Her voice remained quiet but was now infused with the familiar soft comfort that had always calmed him.

"I don't even know where to start, Peg. I've hurt him so many times; what if this was his breaking point?"

She shook her head, placing her palm on Steve's cheek to meet her gaze. "Steve, he couldn't stay away from you even when he thought he despised you. Give him some time, be honest with him and tell him everything that he deserves to know. Let him make that decision instead of assuming how he will handle it and making it for him. And above all, respect his feelings. He loves you, and you hurt him. Own that."

What seemed like hours later, Steve stepped out into the cool night air and checked his phone, unsurprised that there were no messages. Steve shook it off and walked to his car. Bucky had asked for time, and Steve would give it to him, but Steve wouldn't give up. Steve pressed the screen and used the illumination it provided to type out yet another message.

Steve pressed send, watching as the message disappeared and the screen darkened again. He swallowed and rubbed his hand against his chest, attempting to dispel the hollow feeling that was slowly returning. Steve stood in the darkness, his hand on the handle of his car door and looked out into the night. What was Bucky doing right now? Had Bucky received Steve's messages or were all his pleas and words of love still sitting untouched inside Bucky's phone? Steve hoped it was the latter.

The drive home was long and solitary, the radio off, Steve's phone silent on the seat next to him. Steve thought back to earlier on the couch, the way he'd felt in Steve's arms, the way he'd needed to have that moment of normalcy with Bucky before they even spoke of anything else. He'd worked himself into a frenzy by the time the brunet had gotten home, pacing in front of Bucky's apartment like some kind of a stalker. He'd realized that even with all that had happened between them they meant to each other, none of Bucky's neighbors would even know who Steve was. he didn't have a key to Bucky's apartment, Bucky didn't have a key to his. Everything seemed so temporary – something Steve was certainly going to change if given the chance.

he'd noticed immediately that he'd changed out of Bucky's dress clothes and into something more comfortable. Bucky's eyes were red, his expression pained and worried. The moment Steve saw Bucky he couldn't stop himself. The weight he'd been feeling inside his chest disappeared, and Steve almost ran to him, needing to feel Bucky in his arms. Steve sighed in relief, pulling the younger man to him and lifting him nearly off the ground as Steve just breathed, letting Bucky's familiar scent and nearness wash over him.

"I love you," Bucky had whispered and Steve closed his eyes, a tremor moving through him as Bucky's lips pressed against Steve's neck. With those three words, Bucky brought him home and everything else fell away.

"Thank you," He'd murmured, his eyes falling to the younger man’s lips. Steve pulled the brunet to him and felt Bucky shiver in his arms, so thankful Bucky was still as affected by this as he was.

Steve waited, wanting to savor the moment, his eyes falling closed as he tasted Bucky's breath and felt the perceptible warmth of Bucky's lips so close to his own. What if this was the last time Steve felt this? Would Bucky run when he learned of all that was discussed today? That more people actually knew, that their little secret was in reality not so secret after all. Steve could see that Bucky sensed his worry as he pulled away. Steve needed to calm Bucky's fears in return. The others had kept quiet; surely it wouldn't be as big an issue as Bucky anticipated. Steve knew Sam and Tony didn't agree, but it wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. they were in love. People would see that.

He'd kissed Bucky softly and followed him through the door, moving immediately to the large couch before pulling the brunet down to him.

For a long while, Steve simply held him, his fingers running along Bucky's smooth skin and tangling in his hair.

His warm hands brushed along Steve's chest and he found himself trying to memorize each and every moment, to burn into his brain how it felt to be with Bucky like this. He'd placed kisses against his hair and tried to quell the worry Steve couldn't seem to shake.

"Why do you love me?" Steve had asked, not really thinking about the words before they'd fallen from his lips. Bucky's answer had been surprising, not merely because of how he viewed the blond, but more the way Bucky saw himself. Didn't Bucky know that he was the world to Steve? Bucky held his heart in his hands, and Steve would never be able to give it to another.

A horn honked behind him, shaking him from his thoughts. Steve glanced up at the green light and accelerated, traveling the small distance that remained until Steve was home. As he pulled into his space and shut off the engine, Steve reached for his phone again and without a second thought, typed out another message.

His mind was still with Bucky as Steve made his way from the elevator. Closing the door behind him, Steve scanned the apartment. Even in the dark, he could tell the housekeeper had been here; the smell of wood polish and disinfectants now hung in the air instead of Bucky's lingering scent.

With a frown, Steve tossed his keys and wallet to the counter and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and ignoring the flashing message indicator on Steve's answering machine. Steve knew it wasn't Bucky, and everything else could wait. Crossing the room, Steve stopped in front of the large windows and looked out into the New York night. The view was no less beautiful than it was any other night, but Steve didn't want to look out at the familiar skyline. He didn't want to appreciate its glow and symmetry alone.

Steve wanted to watch Bucky as he took in the lights and the angles of the city, Bucky's eyes moving over the landscape and his lips curving into a smile. Steve wanted to wonder if Bucky was remembering the first time they were together. He needed to reshape that memory, to give Bucky the context he so desperately needed. Bucky needed to know how he had owned Steve from their very first touch.

Steve wanted to watch every memory they had with levity, with a new perspective. Steve wanted to laugh together at their antics, understanding better how they had tried too hard to hide the inevitable. Steve wanted to celebrate where they’d ended up.

Had it only been twenty-four hours since they'd laughed and teased, making pizza together in the middle of the night? Since he'd made love to Bucky in his bed?

Steve pressed his palms against his eyes as he tried to shut out the image of Bucky underneath him, the way he'd whispered Steve's name, and the feel of his nails digging into Steve's dampened skin.

Raking his hands through his hair, Steve saw his reflection in the glass.

Steve looked pathetic.

Steve finished his water in one long draw and turned, tossing the empty bottle to the couch as he passed. Steve crossed to his room, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, slipping it off his shoulders and dropping it to the floor. In the dim light, he could see that his bed was perfectly made; the sheets would be crisp and new. All traces of Bucky would be gone. Steve stood in the doorway and swayed slightly.

It was as if Bucky had never been here.

The pain in his chest gripped him and his lungs continued to feel empty even as Steve took deep, gasping breaths. Steve fell to his bed and clutched the pillow, his eyes shut tightly against the images that flashed behind his closed lids. So many memories, just scattered pictures that moved through Steve's mind, some so real he could almost smell Bucky's orange shampoo. Feel Bucky pressed against him. Lose himself in the heat from Bucky's body.

Steve remembered a night just like this, here in his apartment with dinner finished and forgotten on the table. They'd kissed like teenagers on the couch. The voices of Grace Kelly and Jimmy Stewart on the TV faded into the background as Steve's every thought and breath focused on the man in his arms. Bucky's lips were soft as they teased and pulled his. Bucky's hands were so enthusiastic as they had rid the blond of his shirt and traveled across his skin, tracing Steve's arms, his chest and his stomach. Bucky's eyes, wide with urgency and darkened with lust, raked hungrily over Steve's body, making him feel like he was everything the brunet ever need.

Their kisses had slowed as the night progressed, the movie flickering in the darkness. A new feeling, that just being together could be enough, began to settle over them. As he'd made his way down Steve's body, he'd rested his head on the blond’s bare stomach. Bucky's fingers brushed absentmindedly along the waistband of Steve's jeans, triggering his muscles to clench with each pass. His hands moved to Bucky's hair and his fingers ran through the soft strands as Steve watched the way the blue glow from the TV reflected off each one.

Soon after, Bucky's breathing evened out, his body stilled, and soft snores drifted out. He’d smiled as Steve realized he'd fallen asleep. That Bucky was so comfortable here, in Steve's home, in his arms, meant more to him than Steve could have ever thought possible.

They stayed that way as the movie ended, Bucky's contented sighs and occasional murmurs making Steve's heart swell with unspoken emotion.

He’d picked Bucky's up gently and carried him to Steve's bed, undressing him in the muted city lights that fell across the room. Bucky stirred as Steve slipped off his own jeans and climbed in next to him, sighing Steve's name into the darkness. He'd pulled Bucky to him, Steve's hushed words whispered into his hair.

"Shh, baby. I'm right here."

He’d calmed instantly against the blond, Bucky's limbs tangling with his, Bucky's warm breath drifting over Steve's skin.

And they'd slept.

For the first time, he'd simply held Bucky in his arms and fallen asleep without needing to be physical first. Unbidden images briefly entered his mind of a lifetime of nights like this. He'd quickly pushed them aside as he'd fallen asleep, content for the moment just to hold the man Steve had fallen in love with.

As the memory faded back into Steve's empty room, his heart pounded in his chest as panic swept over him in an ice-cold wave.

Steve couldn't lose him.

For the first time in his life, Steve was unafraid, ready to give himself completely and belong to another person. Did Bucky still want him? Steve looked at the time. It had been hours and Bucky hadn't responded. Was Bucky telling him something? He needed to know. Steve's rational mind knew that Bucky was just taking the space he needed, but Steve's heart was breaking. With shaking hands, Steve took out his phone and sent him one final message.

‘Please say you still love me.’

Steve pressed send just as exhaustion took him. The rest would have to be up to the brunet.

Two sounds woke him from Steve's brief escape into sleep: his phone vibrating on the pillow next to him and an insistent knock filtering in from the living room. Steve's eyes fluttered as he tried to fight consciousness, not wanting to break the surface back into reality. Steve blinked as the room came into focus and looked at the time, wondering who would be at his door this late. Steve's heart leapt as he realized it could be Bucky. As quickly as he could move, Steve flung himself off the bed, grabbing his shirt as Steve raced out of the room. His body vibrated with the anticipation of having Bucky in his arms again.

Steve was unprepared for what greeted him on the other side of the door.

"Lorraine?" Steve gasped, unable to hide the shock he felt at seeing the blonde here.

"Steve," She breathed, dropping her phone from her ear, relief visibly washing over her. "I was becoming so worried about you."

Lorraine stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Steve's frozen body. Steve blinked several times as she embraced him, stunned by the familiar way she fit against him and the way she sounded. Steve slowly circled his arms around her waist.

"I can't believe you're here," Steve said into her hair as her familiar scent washed over him, the year or more since they'd seen each other last seeming to disappear. Steve closed his eyes tightly. The day had been so stressful and Steve was overwhelmed by the fact that she was at his door. "What…I don't understand." Steve pulled back and took her face in his hands, searching her features. Lorraine was even more beautiful than Steve remembered.

"I know," She answered, shaking her head slightly and wiping tears from her face.

"Are you okay?" Steve whispered.

She smiled brightly, her entire face lighting up. "Steve, I just had to tell you. I'm getting married!"

"You're what?" Steve exclaimed, unable to contain his smile in return. Steve took her left hand, thrilled to see the beautiful ring she wore on her finger. Bringing it to his lips, Steve kissed it gently. "God, I'm so happy for you, Lorraine."

She leaned in and whispered, "I'm okay now, Steve. It's okay." Her simple statement eased something inside Steve's chest, the guilt he'd been carrying around all this time lifting at her words. Steve wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Thank you," Steve breathed, his arms tightening around her, relishing the quiet deliverance, the release he had so desperately needed.

She pulled back to meet Steve's eyes and her smile faltered, her forehead creased with concern.

"Steve?" She searched his face, surely taking in Steve's red eyes and exhausted appearance. "Steve, what's wrong?" Lorraine asked, her voice panicked and her expression suddenly alarmed.

Looking down briefly, Steve swallowed, ready to deny it as his mind began working on the hundreds of excuses for his current state. But when he looked up again, Steve knew there was no point in lying to her.

Lorraine had been the first woman he'd loved, the only person besides Bucky he'd ever been emotionally close. Steve needed to be honest, starting now.

"Why don't you come on in," Steve said, stepping back and motioning toward his door.

She nodded and preceded him inside. Steve watched as she sat down on the couch, her gaze flickering around Steve's apartment, taking it all in and surely seeing pieces of him that she remembered. Steve sat next to her and ran his hands through his hair, trying to decide where to begin.

"Steve, you don't have to tell him everything. I just want to make sure you're alright," Lorraine said softly, leaning forward and placing her hand on Steve's knee.

Steve smiled, taking her hand in his. Despite everything that had occurred between them, that she would offer him her friendship meant more to him than Steve could ever express.

"I'm fine," Steve began, laughing and shaking his head. "Okay, that's a fucking lie. I'm not fine." Steve ran his hands roughly across his face and leaned back into the couch. "I'm an idiot, and I've let the best thing in my life get away from me because I was too big of a coward to be honest with him." Steve stopped suddenly, realizing how that must sound. "Oh, God. Lorraine I di-"

"No," she stated, holding her hand up in protest. "Don't be sorry you've found someone, Steve. I won't lie…I spent a lot of time being angry with you, hurting and wondering why you couldn't love me enough to stay…but I've moved on. We've both moved on." She smiled and reclaimed Steve's hand. "I see now that you were right, that just loving someone isn't enough, that you must wait until you find your heart." The blonde looked down at her ring, her joy so palpable it could hardly be contained. "I've found it. And he's perfect."

She beamed at him and Steve couldn't help but smile back. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Steve listened happily as she told him about how they met, how their relationship grew and how she knew he was the one she was meant to be with.

With a soft, contented sigh, Lorraine paused. "Now that I've gone on and on," she said with a laugh. "Tell me about this man who has so obviously stolen your heart."

Steve told her everything: the stupid way he'd handled things, how terrified Steve was that Bucky would never let him fix them, and how Steve knew Bucky was the man Steve wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And like the wonderful person Bucky was, Lorraine listened… and she was happy for him.

They continued to catch up for a while after that. Being together like this was so natural, like long lost friends reuniting.

"Wait a minute," Steve started, suddenly realizing he had no idea how Lorraine had gotten here. "What are you doing in New York? Steve mean, Steve thought you were still in Chicago."

"I was. We, my fiancé and I, are in New York overnight. He's actually in the bar downstairs making a few phone calls," Lorraine paused, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable for a moment. Steve leaned forward and squeezed her hand in reassurance. She smiled in acknowledgment before continuing. "Would you like to meet him?"

To be honest, Steve just wanted this night to be over. After everything that had occurred today, heading downstairs to socialize sounded like the last thing Steve wanted to do. But looking into her eyes and seeing the utter happiness reflected back at him, Steve knew he needed to meet and thank the man responsible.

"Of course," Steve said softly, chuckling at the squeal of delight that escaped her. "Give me a second to clean up and we'll head down."

She nodded, standing to look around as Steve headed into his room. Changing his shirt quickly and checking in the mirror, Steve paused at the doorway, turning to glance at his phone still lying on the bed.

His eyes fell to the carpet as Steve waged an internal battle with himself over checking it one more time for a message from Bucky. With a deep sigh, Steve cleared the small distance and picked it up, pressing the screen to view the status.

No messages.

His jaw clenched and his stomach tightened, whether with hurt or anger, Steve wasn't sure. Steve knew Bucky needed time, but how could he just ignore him? Tossing the phone to the bed with a bit more force than necessary, Steve turned quickly, swearing under his breath as he returned to the living room.

Steve managed a smile as Lorraine’s gaze met his, and if she noticed the sudden change in Steve's mood, she didn't mention it. They spoke of mutual acquaintances as they made their way to the elevator, and Steve let her contented presence calm him slightly. As the doors opened, Steve motioned for her to lead the way and pressed the button to take them downstairs.

"Oh," Lorraine began, bending at the waist to retrieve something from the floor next to her. "It looks like someone dropped their phone."

Steve moved toward her, his eyes locked on the familiar iPhone she held in her hands.

"This looks almost like…" Steve paused as he took it from her, his expression pensive as he considered the possibility. Steve pressed the home button and the unmistakable lock screen appeared. Steve's pulse quickened and his mind raced as Steve continued to stare at the device. There was no way this could be Bucky's… could it? Wouldn't Steve have seen it on the way up? Steve thought of everything that had happened today. Was there even a possibility that Bucky had come to Steve's building? Could Bucky have decided to give him another chance?

"Steve?"

"Oh, God," Steve breathed, not realizing he'd moved until the cool metal of the interior wall seeped through his shirt. This was definitely Bucky’s phone and this would explain why he hadn't been responding to Steve’s messages. Steve reached out a hand to steady himself, his stomach rolling and all air evacuating his lungs as he watched the scene beginning to form in Steve's head.

Bucky coming to see Steve.

Bucky seeing Lorraine and Steve together.

Bucky leaving in such a rush that Bucky didn't realize he'd dropped Bucky's phone.

No.

Steve looked up as the series of chimes echoed throughout the small space, the illuminated numbers counting down to signal they’d reached the lobby.

Steve had to find him.

Steve straightened and stepped away from the wall, every reason for him being here now forgotten. Lorraine moved to stand behind him, placing her hand gently on his shoulder.

"I won't lose him," Steve began, speaking to no one in particular. The elevator doors opened and Steve moved forward, stopping as someone blocked his path. Steve glanced up, ready to issue a quick 'excuse me', and froze.

"Bucky?" Steve asked in disbelief, positive that the man standing in front of him had to be a figment of Steve's exhausted mind. Bucky turned toward his voice, Bucky's breath audibly catching in his throat as his wide eyes met his. Time seemed to stop as they faced each other, everything focused on the man standing in front of him.

"Steve," Bucky breathed, his anxious fidgeting now forgotten. The voices around them seemed to quiet as he took in Bucky's tired face. Bucky bit his lip and looked down briefly. Steve's stomach clenched painfully as Bucky's red eyes met his again.

"What are you…" Steve trailed off, trying to make sense of what was happening.

He came to him.

A throat cleared behind him, Steve's mind barely registering that they weren't alone.

"Steve?" Lorraine questioned, moving to stand beside him. Steve knew Bucky was waiting for a response but he couldn't take His eyes off Bucky…couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Bucky had come to find him.

He wasn't running.

"Steve?" Lorraine said again softly. "I think I'll excuse myself." Steve looked at her in a daze and she smiled. "Call me when you can."

Steve nodded and watched her approach Bucky, unsure of what she was doing. Bucky never wavered as Lorraine took his hands, pausing to glance back at Steve over her shoulder.

"I think," she began, turning toward Bucky again with a smile. "He's definitely found his heart."

With one last genuine smile, Lorraine left them both in front of the elevator. As she walked away, moving farther with each step, Steve realized that she took nothing with her. For the first time in over a year, Steve was truly free.

Steve looked down, his eyes falling to the phone Steve still held in his hand.

"Is this yours?" Steve asked softly.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as they fell to the phone Steve offered him, then widened in recognition.

"I didn't realize he'd dropped it," Bucky whispered, taking them from him.

Steve nodded in acknowledgment, Bucky's simple statement confirming his suspicions. He shifted slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets to refrain from reaching for the younger man.

"You were here then….earlier?"

"Yes," Bucky stated, his voice barely audible. Steve's chest constricted as his arms ached to hold him. Here Bucky stood, unsure of what had happened and yet somehow, he had enough faith in him to come back.

Steve would never deserve him.

Steve exhaled and moved forward, cautiously taking Bucky's hands in his. Bucky raised his chin to meet his eyes, and Steve smiled at the determination he saw there.

"Come with me?" Steve asked, his thumbs tracing soft circles across Bucky's palms. Bucky nodded and Steve gave his hands a gentle squeeze before turning toward the elevator, pressing the button to take them to his floor.

They stood together in silence, Bucky's arm pressed close enough to his that Steve could feel the heat through his shirt. He refused to let go of Bucky's hand, and although he didn't protest, it rested passively in Steve's palm. The doors opened and they stepped out, leading Bucky down the hall toward his apartment. Steve motioned for Bucky to step in before him and closed the door silently, pausing before turning to face him.

His mind raced with the hundreds of things Steve needed to say to him, knowing that none of them would make up for what he'd probably felt tonight.

Standing in front of the window, Bucky waited, certainly contemplating what he was doing here.

"Bucky," Steve began, exhaling heavily, his sigh the only sound in the room.

"I went to the office," Bucky said softly. "Tonight…after I left."

His eyes narrowed in confusion, wondering why Bucky started there and wishing he could see Bucky's face. Steve moved to turn on the small lamp on the sofa table before Bucky stopped him.

"No, don't," Bucky protested. "I just…I like it like this. When the lights are on, I can't see the city."

Steve’s heart lurched at even that small similarity between them. Steve nodded, even though he knew Bucky couldn't see him, and moved to sit on the arm of the couch nearest to where the younger man stood. From where Steve sat, he could see Bucky's profile; the way he chewed on his lip, the way he anxiously played with the hem of his shirt.

"You went to the office?" Steve asked, his stomach clenching uncomfortably, His breathing increasing slightly. There was only one reason Bucky would have gone there after seeing Lorraine and Steve together.

He nodded, continuing to stare at the beautiful city skyline on the other side of the glass.

"You were quitting," Steve stated, swallowing as a wave of nausea overtook him. Steve leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to calm the overwhelming dread that filled every cell of his body. Steve knew it was now or never. If Steve wasn't honest with Bucky now, he'd have no one to blame but himself.

"Bucky…please…please don't leave me." Steve's voice cracked, his body trembling as the image of Bucky leaving played over and over in his mind. "Let me tell you everything, please. Please, Bucky. I love you so much…I'll do anything."

The brunet turned to him, the city lights reflecting in the tears that pooled in Bucky's eyes. "I'm not leaving," Bucky began, a tremor visibly shaking his body. "I couldn't…even if I wanted to."

Steve exhaled in a rush as relief flooded him.

"What you saw…" Steve trailed off, shaking his head as he imagined it through Bucky's eyes. "Bucky, I'm sure you know that was Lorraine, she came to tell me she's getting married, that she forgives me for what Steve put her through. Baby, I know how it must have looked, but you have to know that I love you…that I could never….you're everything to me. My life is yours, everything I have…everything I am, it's yours."

Steve watched as a tear slipped down Bucky's cheek, the trail glistening in the dim light.

"I know…" Bucky said quietly, their gazes meeting in the dark. Steve ached to hold him, to wipe away his tears.

His arms shook as Steve clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "I started packing my things," Bucky murmured and Steve shook his head, trying to dispel the image of going in and finding Bucky's desk empty.

"Sam was there. He surprised me while I was cleaning out my desk." Bucky hesitated, his eyes moving briefly to the window again. "We talked."

"Sam was there?"

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, wrapping his arms around himself.

"What did he say?" Steve asked, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

"That he cared deeply for me," Bucky's voice cracked as more tears fell. Steve was so grateful in that moment to Sam, knowing how much Bucky cared for him and the others, how hurt Bucky was to have disappointed them. Bucky inhaled a shaky breath and continued. "And he basically told me what I already knew, that you're different now, that you've changed."

"I have, Bucky."

"He said that you've always acted as if the weight of the world was on your shoulders…but they've seen a change, and they know now that the change was me."

Their eyes met and for the first time since he'd touched Bucky all those months ago, Steve saw no doubt there.

"It's true."

"I saw something and overreacted. I'm so sorry that I let my fear and insecurity override what I know about you…about the man you've proven to be. But I'm not scared anymore, Steve. I think…for us to move on, I needed to realize it for myself. I know you love me," Bucky stated firmly as his arms fell loosely to his sides, his voice unwavering.

"So much," Steve breathed, needing to hold him, to reassure himself that Bucky was really here. As if sensing his struggle, the younger man moved forward, stopping to stand in front of him. Steve reached out and took Bucky's hands. Bucky stepped between his legs and Steve pulled him to him, pressing Steve's face against his stomach, closing his eyes as Bucky's hands wound through his hair.

"I love you, Steve." Bucky kissed the top of Steve's head, sighing as he tightened his grasp.

"You came back," Steve whispered into Bucky's shirt, realizing the enormity of what he'd done.

"I'm done running from you."

Steve pulled back to look at him, his eyes searching Bucky's face. Despite everything, Bucky had let his belief in him override his fear. Running Steve's hand up the brunet’s body, the backs of his fingers swept across Bucky's damp cheek.

"Thank you," Steve whispered, smiling as Bucky leaned into his touch. "Bucky, we have so much to talk about."

"We do," Bucky answered quietly. Steve felt his cheek lift under his palm as Bucky smiled. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Steve smiled in return and pulled Bucky down to him, Steve's lips brushing lightly across his. "I love you," Steve murmured against his mouth.

The younger man sighed heavily, a mixture of contentment and relief evident in the sound.

The clock in the hallway chimed, ringing through the darkness. Pulling back, Steve ran his thumb under Bucky's eye again, brushing away what he hoped would be the last of his tears tonight.

"It's late," Steve said, noting the way Bucky's body leaned into his and thinking back on all that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

Bucky nodded, laughing quietly. "I'm so tired."

"Come on." Steve stood and picked him up, carrying him into the bedroom.

They undressed each other quietly. Steve kissed Bucky’s chin, his ear, his navel. Bucky whispered 'I love you' against Steve's shoulder and kissed his lips softly. There was no frenzy, only the need to be close. They climbed into bed together, Steve's own exhaustion suddenly overwhelming him as he covered them with the thick comforter. Bucky's body molded to his, their legs intertwining as Steve wrapped his arms around him.

The last thing Steve heard before he drifted off to sleep was the contented sigh of the man Steve knew he'd never let go of again.

\---

Steve awoke sometime later. The room was still dark, Bucky's soft, warm body slumbering beneath him.

Lifting Steve's chin, he watched him. Steve was mesmerized by the way Bucky’s chest lifted with each breath and how his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. At the forefront of Steve's mind was still the fact that Bucky had returned to him. Despite everything that Bucky had seen, he believed in Steve enough to come back. Second, to this was the knowledge that they no longer needed to hide. Steve could take the younger man out, kiss him in front of everyone, and tell the world that Bucky was his.

Steve was suddenly ravenous with the need to touch him.

Steve placed a kiss against Bucky's chest, his familiar and masculine scent washing over the blond. Steve circled his tongue around Bucky's nipple, taking it into his mouth, unable to keep from groaning at the feel of him under Steve's lips. As he sucked gently, Bucky moaned, his hands moving to Steve's head and holding it to him.

"Steve," Bucky sighed, and the need in Bucky's voice went straight to Steve's cock. Moving to his other nipple, he took it between his teeth and tugged gently. Bucky gasped, arching his back, his hips moving against Steve’s.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Steve murmured against Bucky's skin, kissing a trail up to his neck. "But I couldn't lay here with you for one more second and not touch you."

"Mmm, I'm glad," Bucky sighed, his legs shifting as Steve settled between them. His pulse beat rapidly beneath Steve's lips, his heat causing him to moan as Steve brushed against him.

"I love you so much," Steve whispered into Bucky's ear. I can't wait to tell everyone that you're mine." Kissing along Bucky's jaw, he pushed his hands into Bucky's hair, connecting their mouths.

"No more hiding," Bucky breathed into his mouth.

"Never."

Their lips moved together, Bucky's tongue tangling with his as the kiss deepened. Trembling fingers traced Steve's jaw, his stubble-covered chin audibly rough against Bucky's own. Steve pulled at Bucky's bottom lip, taking it between his and sucking. His hand moved along Bucky's naked body, down his side, and to his hip. Steve rocked against him, groaning into Bucky's mouth as Steve felt Bucky's erection against his own. His fingers continued down the brunet’s leg and Steve reached behind his knee, hitching it onto Steve's arm to bring Bucky’s leg near his chest.

The younger man moaned loudly as Steve moved his hips, the new position aligning him perfectly and pressing him flush to Bucky. Each movement brought a new and more wanton sound from Bucky's lips.

"That feels so good," Bucky moaned as Steve rocked against him. "Don't…don't stop."

He tasted Bucky's skin, his mouth moving from Bucky's lips to his jaw. He trailed kisses down Bucky's neck and along his shoulders, a brief glimpse of being with this man every night, in their bed, ghosting through Steve's mind. Bucky's hands roamed Steve's back, his fingertips exploring each muscle as it flexed and contracted. Closing his eyes, Steve focused on the feeling of sliding against Bucky this way, the friction and the heat of Bucky consuming him as Steve continued to move. It was the sweetest torture to know that with the slightest change in angle and some preparation, Steve could be inside Bucky's body.

As if reading Steve’s thought, Bucky twisted his upper body to reach the bedside table, knowing there was lube in the top drawer. He deposited some onto his fingers and his hand slipped between them, his finger circling his hole before impatiently pressing in. Steve kissed him as Bucky opened himself, before long he had added a second finger. Steve wanted to tell him to slow down and enjoy himself, but the blond was also aching and wanted to be buried in the brunet. Bucky finally pressed in a third finger briefly before seeming himself ready.

Bucky moved to grasp Steve's cock, stroking over it a few times to spread the wetness over it. Steve held his body off Bucky as he watched Bucky place the head against himself, slowly circling his entrance.

"Oh fuck, baby," Steve hissed. His chest heaved and his body strained with the effort of not moving, of letting Bucky control this. Warmth engulfed him as Bucky pulled him forward, and they watched as the tip of Steve's dick slipped inside the rim.

"Oh, Steve," Bucky gasped, his eyes fluttering closed as his muscles constricted slightly around him.

"Please, Bucky," Steve begged, the urge to thrust, to sheath himself inside of his body almost too strong to resist. Moving Bucky's hands to Steve’s hips, Bucky gripped him tightly, urging him forward. Inch by inch, Steve moved deeper until his hips were flush with the brunet’s. Bucky's head fell back against the pillow and with shaking hands, he pulled Steve's face to his.

"Wait," Bucky murmured against Steve's lips when the blond shifted slightly. "I just need to feel you."

"I know, baby." Steve kissed him slowly, slipping Steve's arms beneath him and pulling him to Steve. "Tell me you love me," Steve whispered, trailing kisses along Bucky's chin and jaw.

"I love you." Steve felt Bucky's words vibrate beneath his lips and Steve smiled against his throat. "Move in me, Steve."

Pulling back slightly, Steve groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he thrust back inside him. Bucky's hips lifted, his breathy moans and sighs spurring the blond on. Bucky's legs wrapped around Steve's waist as he rocked against him. Bucky's hands tangled in Steve's hair roughly, his back arching as Steve took Bucky's nipple between his teeth.

Rolling them over, Bucky hovered above Steve. The blond’s hands explored Bucky as they kissed, leaving a trail of goosebumps along Bucky's skin. Steve bent his legs and thrust up to meet him, his palms skimming along Bucky's thighs, cupping him, pulling Bucky onto him. Bucky pushed off Steve's chest, sitting up, his legs on either side of Steve's hips.

"You look so beautiful," Steve said, his eyes greedily roaming Bucky's body.

"So do you," Bucky teased, breathlessly. Bucky's palms came to rest on Steve's chest, supporting him as he rocked on top of him. Steve's thumb moved in circles around Bucky's hardened nipple. Bucky moaned and covered Steve's hand, their fingers entwining, encouraging him to grip Bucky more firmly. Bucky's head fell back and Steve sat up, brushing kisses along Bucky's throat, feeling each whimper as it escaped him. Steve placed a hand behind Bucky's head, the other moving down to rest at his waist. Bucky leaned back, arching, offering himself to him.

Leaning over, Steve kissed the brunet’s chest, his tongue flicking Bucky's nipple before taking it between his lips.

"You taste so good," Steve said hungrily. Bucky cried out as Steve dragged his teeth along the tender flesh, teasing it before kissing it gently and moving to the other.

"Harder, Steve," Bucky groaned, his hips moving against Steve’s. Steve moved to lie Bucky on his back and was hovering over him again, kissing along Bucky's leg as Steve placed it over his shoulder. Bucky's body rocked back up to meet his as Steve began to thrust. Bucky was gripping the sheets near his head, the fabric straining, bunching under his fingers.

"Like that?" Steve asked, rocking more forcefully against him, noting the sheen of sweat along Bucky's chest and shoulders.

"God yes," Bucky panted. "Right there, oh please...right there." Steve knew the angle had him directly hitting the younger man’s prostate and he kept up his pace.

"I'm so close, baby," Steve swallowed roughly, his mouth dry as the muscles in his stomach began to clench. "Come for me.”

The sudden climax seemed to take the brunet by surprise as he tensed and his went slack in a silent scream before he was calling Steve's name loudly and coming untouched onto his stomach, his back arching into him, Bucky's hands reaching for the headboard. The blond’s fingers traced along his abdominal muscles, gathering the white fluid and raising two fingers to Bucky’s mouth.

“Suck,” he breathed and Bucky obliged and took the fingers into his mouth, his hips lifting off the mattress and Steve gripped them tightly, attempting to still Bucky as he thrust one final time, coming inside of him.

As their bodies slowed, their chests heaving against each other, their eyes met. Steve leaned forward and kissed Bucky gently, laughing softly at the feel of his racing heart pounding in time with Steve's own.

With an exhausted sigh, Steve rolled them over again, Steve's outstretched arms falling limply beside his head.

He pressed his face into Steve's neck as the blond tried to catch his breath.

"Jesus Christ," Steve panted, running his hand through his hair and across his face. Propping Bucky's chin on Steve's chest, the younger man smiled widely at him, his skin almost glowing in the dawning light. Bucky looked to the window before turning back to him.

"Well, good morning, handsome," Bucky giggled softly as Steve brushed the hair off Bucky's damp forehead.

"Mmm…It was a very good morning," Steve teased, winking as he pulled Bucky's further up his body. He placed a kiss against Bucky's lips before tilting his head, his tone becoming more serious. "Can I tell you something?" Steve asked, tracing his thumb along Bucky's flushed cheeks.

His eyes closed and Bucky sighed contentedly as Steve ran his fingers through that wild brown hair.

"This is exactly how I want to wake up every morning." Bucky's eyes opened to meet his. "Bucky, you are the love of my life, there will never be anyone else for me. Ever." Taking Bucky's face in his hands, Steve continued. "I knew every day I was with Lorraine that she wasn't meant for me, and I've known every day since they met that you were."

"You did?" Bucky asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Steve sighed deeply, his eyes falling briefly before returning to his. "I stayed with Lorraine for all the wrong reasons. Our relationship was comfortable, safe and easy. I stayed with her because everyone expected me to, despite knowing that I would never return her depth of feeling. Lorraine is a beautiful, giving woman and when she wanted more…when she wanted what most people want, what she had every right to expect…I left."

Steve swallowed, moving to the piece of hair on the younger man’s forehead. "She wanted marriage and I panicked. I panicked because I didn't want those things, not with her. I told her I didn't love her anymore, that she deserved someone who would give her everything without question. I was gone by the end of the night."

"And now?" Bucky asked quietly.

"And now," Steve sighed, tilting his head and meeting Bucky's gaze once again. "I see that I should have ended it long before then. I led her on because it was easy. We never argued, and I thought we wanted the same things. She lost herself in us. I hurt her so badly when I left, she stopped working, she closed herself off…she fell apart. And I-"

"Came here," Bucky finished in a hushed whisper.

Steve nodded, trying to read Bucky's expression. "That first time I saw you, standing in my office laughing… Bucky, I felt in that one moment what I’d never felt the entire time Lorraine and I were together."

His breath seemed to catch in Bucky's throat as he waited for him to continue.

"I was terrified. I couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter what I did or how I acted…you were always there. I thought maybe if you hated me and I could force myself to hate you, that it would be fine." A single tear slipped down Bucky's cheek and Steve brushed it away. "But it was no use," Steve said softly, shaking his head. "You were the sexiest thing I'd ever seen: argumentative, strong-willed, opinionated, smart. I was the biggest jackass to you, and you never let me get away with it."

Steve smiled as he brushed the backs of his fingers along Bucky's jaw.

"I was tormented with wanting you, Bucky. The office had turned into my personal hell on earth…but there was no way I could have left. Is this making any sense?"

"Yes," Bucky said, leaning into his hand. "I could never understand what I did, why you disliked me so much."

"You didn't do anything," Steve answered, leaning up to brush a soft kiss against Bucky's lips. His fingers moved up and down Bucky's arm as he tried to explain. "I’d convinced myself that things were manageable, and then that first night happened. You were so close, and I could smell you and feel you in the air. All I had to do was reach out and… take. When you didn't push me away when you let me touch you…feel you…be inside of you…" Steve trailed off, pulling Bucky's face to his, kissing him lightly. "I was lost. It became so much more than wanting your body. I wanted you."

"I've always wanted you," Bucky whispered, their mouths so close, Steve felt each word as Bucky spoke it.

"You have me, you always have," Steve answered, his eyes open and searching Bucky's face. "And I'm never letting you go again."

His fingers twisted roughly in Steve's hair, and Bucky pulled him, Bucky's mouth pressing eagerly against his. "Show me," Bucky breathed, his grip tightening against Steve's scalp. "Show me what you didn't have the chance to all that time." Bucky ran his tongue along Steve's jaw and lowered his voice. "Show me what you wanted."

Steve groaned as Bucky's words shot through him and rolled them onto their sides, the length of their bodies pressed against each other. "I wanted you to touch me and show me how well you knew my body," Steve told him, trembling as Bucky's hand wrapped around his growing erection, his thumb circling the tip. "I wanted to know that you noticed every detail, too."

"Like this?" Bucky asked, his palm sliding up and down Steve's length.

"God, yes," Steve hissed, Steve's hips rocking against him as Bucky continued to tease him. Bucky's hand moved slowly, his touch so familiar, so devastatingly perfect.

"What else?" Bucky placed a kiss at the corner of Steve's mouth, before running his lips along Steve's jaw.

"I wanted to touch you," Steve answered. "I wanted you to feel in my touch that I felt every reaction, that I saw everything you liked me to do."

Steve felt Bucky's take one of his hands and place it on his own cock. "Like this?" Bucky's voice was a low purr: teasing, knowing.

Steve knew exactly what Bucky wanted: first, Steve would wrap his fingers around him, slowly stroking up and down the entire length. Next, he would swipe his thumb over the tip every few passes. Finally, a slight twist in his wrist on the upstroke. Bucky moaned, like Steve knew he would.

"Yes," Steve sighed against him, lost in the feeling of touching his body, knowing no one else would ever know him this way, no one else would ever make Bucky feel this.

"What else?" Bucky's words were strained and tight with need.

"I wanted you to say my name." Steve squeezes his dick slightly as Steve leaned to kiss him.

Steve felt the brunet’s smile against his lips. "I love how you make me feel, Steve," Bucky growled into his ear.

"I wanted to say your name." Steve nibbled Bucky's bottom lip. Bucky panted against him as he murmured, "I wanted to call you by your real name." Steve lifted Bucky's leg and placed it on his hip, his hands moving to Bucky's ass, pulling the younger man more firmly to him.

Steve pulled his head back and looked at him, wanting to acknowledge when everything changed for them.

"And after Seattle, I wanted to just be together without having to pretend we were so angry all the time, to not resent how weak I felt. I wanted you to be happy to see me so I could show you how my chest felt like it was cracked open when I saw your smile. I wanted you to love me." Steve rolled Bucky over, and moved between Bucky's legs. "I wanted you to love me the way that I loved you."

"I do love you," Bucky breathed against Steve's neck, his lips running along Steve's throat, Bucky's legs wrapping around his waist. "Steve, please…"

Pushing forward, Steve shuddered as his pushed inside of the brunet again. Breaching him effortlessly as Steve’s come eased slide. Steve turned his head, seeking Bucky's lips to find him waiting for him. Taking Bucky's hands in his, Steve raised them above Bucky's head, pressing them against the mattress. Steve held them captive there, the way he'd always held Steve.

"I love you, Bucky," Steve breathed, his body continuing to rock into the younger man. "I want to make you mine," Steve said between kisses. "I want to wake up with you every morning, and I want to fall asleep with you in my arms every night." Bucky panted softly underneath him, eyes closed and mouth slack in bliss.

Steve increased his pace, chasing his own orgasm. Bucky’s grip tightened on Steve's hands, Bucky's legs pulling him closer as he softly cried out Steve's name. Steve felt the brunet’s body arch against his as Steve began to thrust inside of him, completely lost in Bucky's arms.

"I want those things too," Bucky murmured against Steve's lips. A moment of clarity broke through Steve's fractured thoughts. Steve saw them as the couple they were together, not the stubborn, lost people they had been separately. Steve knew without a doubt that he belonged to Bucky and that Bucky would always be his as well. Steve understood Bucky's fears and knew that he had put it all aside to believe in them.

The sun had risen, the soft rays of morning light filtered in through the windows, falling across the bed to glisten in Bucky's hair. Steve's hand still entwined with his, Steve brought it to his mouth, placing the softest kiss against Bucky's ring finger. Steve knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would put a ring there.

That knowledge overwhelmed him.

As Steve looked down at him, Bucky's eyes opened. Bucky bit his lip before taking Steve's face into his hands and kissing him with the same frantic hunger Steve felt.

"I can't hold out much longer," Bucky whispered against Steve's lips, bringing him back as the familiar rush began to spread throughout Steve's body. "Please come with me…" Steve kissed Bucky slowly as he began to tense around him, their interlocked hands pressed against their bodies, their hearts both thundering between them.

They came together in a wave of soft sighs and shaky breaths, their limbs trembling with exhaustion as they wrapped themselves around each other. Bucky brushed the hair off Steve's forehead and placed a kiss there before Steve moved to rest his head against Bucky's chest.

"Do you know what I want to do?" Steve asked through heaving breaths, the thump of Bucky's heart just below his ear.

"What?" Bucky answered, Steve's eyes closing as his fingers ran through his hair.

"Take you to breakfast," Steve answered simply. Bucky laughed softly and the blond smiled, hearing the sound that had become so precious to him.

"Now why would you want to do that?" Bucky asked. "Everything I want is right here in this bed."

Steve looked up at Bucky then and smiled. "Because I want to take you to the most crowded street in all of New York," Steve began, bringing Bucky's fingers to his mouth and brushing his lips against them once more.

"And I want to hold your hand."


	19. First Time

Steve sighed contentedly, his head falling back, rolling lazily against the brunet’s shoulder. Bucky watched him stretch his long legs out, bringing them to rest on the edge of the porcelain tub. Water dripped from his blond hair, each drop landing rhythmically against Bucky’s chest before trickling down to the waterline. The vanilla-scented steam swirled around them, the sounds of the lively Paris street floating in from the open window.

Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s temple and closed his eyes, feeling at peace.

"You do know we're both going to catch pneumonia, don't you?" He said teasingly, his tone causing Bucky to smile.

"Hmmm," The younger man sighed, his grin widening. "I'm not sure I care at the moment."

Steve laughed quietly, the deep vibrations tickled through his chest. "You may care when you're too sick to enjoy our vacation," Steve replied, leaning his head back to peer at him.

Bucky looked down at him, unable to resist a kiss with his mouth so close.

Bucky sighed, his eyes drifting over to the view of the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the darkening sky. The night sky here wasn't full of stars, but the sights of the city. Not that he had seen much of it; since their arrival, they found it difficult to leave the room. He wasn't complaining, he’d enjoyed every minute of his time here with Steve. The faint sound of laughter, of tinkling wine glasses and the string of a violin below carried up to them from the cafe several floors beneath their penthouse. "Hmm, you may have a point."

The brunet kissed him once more before Steve moved to the edge abruptly, reaching up to close the ornate latch on the large window.

He watched, riveted by the way Steve’s arms stretched, mesmerized by the play of muscles as his back flexed and contracted. The water sloshed around them as he turned to find Bucky staring, the corner of his mouth lifting, deep laughter echoing in the elaborately tiled bathroom.

Steve shook his head and leaned in, kissing Bucky’s lips softly before resuming his seat between his legs. "I want your undivided attention."

"Trust me, you have it," Bucky assured.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch places?" The blond asked again, his hands curling around Bucky’s calves, his fingers slowly kneading the muscle.

"Mmmm," Bucky moaned at the feeling, his eyes rolling back. "No way, I'm perfectly content like this."

He laughed again. "I'm sure you are."

Wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Bucky pulled him in, kissing the side of his neck before running his fingers through his blond hair. "Comfortable?"

"Very." Steve tilted his head and sighed, his warm breath tickling the younger man’s wet skin. "But, is this all we get to see of Paris?"

"What are you talking about? We've seen tons," Bucky reassured him, thinking of all Steve had shared with him. His fingers brushed along the blond’s chest, the hard muscle so familiar under his hands.

"Yes," Steve began. "And yet, nights here are beautiful, and we always seem to end up here." He laughed, motioning to the tub.

"Or the bed," Bucky teased, his teeth scraping along his neck. "Or the chair, or-"

"Baby," the blond groaned, and Bucky smiled, noticing the trail of goosebumps down his arms. "I know, I know. Just a few more minutes."

He nodded, turning to kiss Bucky’s chin. "If you keep that up we'll never get out… just like yesterday."

Meeting his eyes, the younger man laughed, tightening his grip around Steve and resting his face against his neck.

"I think I want a tub just like this in the new house."

"I think that's a great idea, baby," he began, running his fingers along Bucky’s arm. "Although… I have no idea how we'll get anything done."

Bucky laughed, sighing against his shoulder. "Our house," he repeated, the barely contained joy he had each time they discussed this threatening to erupt. Bucky smiled widely and bit his lip, so giddy he could burst.

Their eyes met again, Steve’s warm, wet hand gently cupping the brunet’s cheek, his smile as wide as his own.

"Our house.”

\---

Three hours later, Bucky sat on the bed, finishing up his telephone conversation with his sister.

"Isn't Paris the most beautiful place you've ever been?" she asked, the wonder and dream-like quality of her voice not going unnoticed. "I lived for the times I got to visit."

"It's been amazing," Bucky agreed. "We've gone all the places I just had to see – the Louvre, the Champs-Elysees, of course, the Eiffel Tower. But he's also shown me vineyards…” Bucky trailed off. 

The ease of their conversation reminded him of how much closer Steve and him had become. In these moments, he caught himself wondering if any of this was real; so much had changed in the last few months.

Despite protests from Sam and the rest of the group, Bucky would have never taken the position with the new CEO. He opted instead to return to school and volunteering at the treatment center his sister had visited.

But despite all that had happened and the effect their choices had on Bucky’s career, being with the love of his life had changed him in ways he had never imagined, and for the first time ever, he no longer felt the need to prove himself to anyone. Bucky had the love and respect of the man of his dreams. The rest was simply details.

There wasn't one moment that he mourned giving up a job that had once defined his identity. Bucky knew there were even greater opportunities awaiting him in the future, but for the time being, he was enjoying a happiness he had never known. He wasn't alone in feeling this way; he saw the change in Steve, and so did the rest of his friends.

Bucky would never forget Sam’s words to him.

"Steve can be a difficult man," Sam had said, his eyes far away. "But these last few weeks, he's been different. He smiles more, he jokes with everyone. He doesn't seem to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I know now, that change was you. Regardless of how it came about, we're so thankful for that."

Those were the words the brunet carried with him, making his decisions easier than he’d ever imagined possible.

Sam was right, of course, but he had also changed the way that Bucky saw the world and his place in it.

"Are you dining out tonight?" Becca’s inquisitive tone pulled him back to the present.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

She laughed knowingly. "What are you two planning for tonight?"

"Oh," He said, shaking his head at his absentmindedness. "We're actually going to the opera."

"What are you seeing?" she perked up.

The sound of the shower door opening caught his attention. Leaning back against the headboard, Bucky caught flashes of the blond’s skin reflected in the mirror.

The door was slightly ajar, the delicate gold leaf sconces illuminating Steve’s nearly naked, wet body. His towel hung low on his hips as he leaned against the counter, the razor moving with expert precision along his angled jaw and chin. As much as Bucky was enjoying this chat, he wanted to join Steve.

"We're seeing La Boheme," Bucky answered distractedly as Steve moved in and out of his view. "And he has some secret place he's very intent on taking me this week."

"Well," she teased. "I'm sure I have absolutely no idea where that could be." Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing everyone was obviously keeping something from him, but became distracted once again as Steve disappeared behind the door.

"I'm excited," Bucky recovered, thinking quickly. "Speaking of…I need to finish getting ready." He asked, more eager now.

"Just give him my love and you two enjoy yourselves," she answered. Bucky smiled at the affection in her voice.

"I will."

Hanging up and tossing the phone to the chair, Bucky made his way to the bathroom. 

"Knock, knock," The brunet said, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

As Bucky entered, Steve stopped, setting down the razor and turning toward him, his eyes moving hungrily over Bucky in return. "Baby, you look absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," He mumbled, unable to take his eyes off Steve. "You, um… aren't half bad yourself."

Steve laughed as he cleared the distance between them, pausing to run his finger along the side of the brunet’s neck. Bucky placed his hands against his chest, silently relishing the way the blond’s heart raced beneath his palms

"Yet again… I'm not sure I want to leave this room now," Steve whispered into his brown hair. Bucky closed his eyes as his warm breath swept over him, his senses focused on the path of the blond’s hands. Lightly, his fingers traveled across Bucky’s shoulders and along his neck, stopping as they tangled in his hair at the nose of his neck. Bucky loved the way he touched him, and if Steve kept it up, he wasn't sure he would want to leave either.

Bucky swallowed loudly, certain he could hear it, positive that he knew his every reaction to him.

Time had not lessened his physical hold on Bucky, if anything, it had only intensified. He was no more able to resist Steve now than he had been that first night. As he lifted his chin to meet Steve’s eyes, he knew that Steve was every bit as powerless as Bucky was.

Steve leaned in slowly, his eyes half-closed and focused on the brunet’s mouth, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb.

"I can't imagine being anywhere else. Thank you for coming with me," he said softly, his nose nudging against Bucky’s.

"Thank you for asking me," he answered breathlessly.

"Thank you for loving me." His lips hovered just out of reach, his hold on Bucky tightening.

"Thank you for wanting me to."

Steve smiled against Bucky’s lips for the briefest second before his eyes fell closed. Tilting his head, Steve pulled him in, moaning softly as he closed the remaining distance try between them. Every nerve in Bucky's body ignited the moment his lips fully covered his own.

Steve smelled of shampoo and shaving cream, his skin still warm and slightly damp from his shower. The younger man’s hands slipped down his chest, his fingers brushing along the edge of the towel, itching to remove it, to feel Steve in his hand. The blond lingered against his lips, teasing Bucky but never deepening the kiss. He whimpered as Steve pulled away, his forehead pressed against his.

"We need to go," Steve complained, his breaths labored as he pressed a kiss to his brown hair.

"I know." Bucky’s hands continued to move greedily along his skin, tracing the muscles of his shoulders.

Moving back, he took Bucky’s face in his palms. "Do you know what I'm going to do?" he asked his mischievous grin causing the brunet’s pulse to quicken.

"I'm going to take you out tonight and show you off to everyone."

He placed a single kiss against the brunet’s cheek. "Knowing that everyone is watching you and that you belong to me." Steve's lips lingered at the corner of his mouth.

"And when I get you back here," his voice deepened as his eyes fell to Bucky’s lips again. "I'm going to make love to you." He then kissed the younger man gently. "Until the sun comes up."

\--- 

Two days later

They walked hand-in-hand along the narrow, cobbled streets, enjoying the starless evening. The sidewalks were still wet from the recent storm, the air thick with the scent of rain. Their pace was leisurely, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they strolled along the busy lane. There was nothing awkward about their silence, no uncomfortable lull in the conversation; just the complete contentment of being together.

They rounded a street corner and Steve felt the stirrings of anxiety. He focused instead on where they were and what this night meant, letting Bucky’s closeness calm him as they neared the cafe.

Beautiful displays with twinkling lights and holiday decorations filled the tiny shop windows, each seeming to glow from within. Steve inhaled deeply, his lungs filling with the scents of wet stone, coffee, and cinnamon from the bakery two shops down. He was vaguely aware of Bucky’s presence next to them as they walked in stride with each other. 

Steve turned his head to watch the brunet then, smiling widely at his fascinated expression. Bucky was enjoying the city, enjoying just walking with him, soaking it all in. He’d had high hopes for their time here together, but was in no way prepared for how his happiness would affect Steve. Bucky's eyes would light up as they walked the streets, taking in the small boutiques, the easy sidewalk cafes, the markets with colorful produce out front. Steve saw the city through the younger man’s eyes, taking it all in – its differences, its eccentricities – through his wide, excited gaze.

The blond shook his head in wonder, letting his eyes fall to their joined hands swinging silently between them, his heart swelling at the simple gesture and all that it meant to him.

Bucky sighed, drawing Steve’s attention back up to his face. His nose and cheeks were red now, his hair fluffy atop his head. Early snowflakes glittered like diamonds in his eyelashes as puffs of air floated up with each exhalation. The cool December evening was chilly enough to force them into coats and gloves, encouraging them both to consider staying in again. But nothing in this world could have kept Steve from his plans tonight.

Without another thought, he pulled him in, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as he continued to guide them towards their destination. The brunet returned the gesture, placing his arms around his waist and letting his head rest briefly against the blond’s chest.

"What was that for?" he asked as Steve released his grip, lifting his chin to peer at him.

"Because you're here," He answered, kissing his head and smiling at him.

Bucky sighed happily, leaning into him as they walked, the sounds of fellow shoppers and Christmas carols adding to their cheerful mood. they were getting closer; one more corner and they'd be there.

Steve’s mind drifted to the items stored safely in his coat pocket, and to what Bucky’s reaction would inevitably be to them. He’d known for months that he wanted a life with him, but he’d held off, always worried it was too soon.

Shortly after their relationship became public, he’d suggested moving in together, certain there was no way they could spend another night apart. He’d been surprised when Bucky turned him down, wondering if he’d misjudged things if the possibility existed that they wanted different futures.

Lying side by side on his couch, his hands running through Bucky's hair in the darkened room, they’d talked that night. Really talked.

Bucky told him of his fears: that Steve had only been interested in one type of relationship with him, that he'd loved Steve since Seattle and had spent every day since then preparing to lose him. The brunet told him of the moment he decided to stop fighting it and how each day he loved Steve more. They talked more about his fear of disappointing everyone they worked with and were close to, how grateful he'd been for their love and acceptance.

Bucky had calmed Steve’s fears so easily; his words soothing his damaged ego, helping him realize they both needed time to adjust.

Since that night, Steve had never pushed, promising himself he would give him the time he needed; that they needed. Despite their plans, they'd hardly spent a night apart.

Things hadn't always been perfect, of course. Bucky decided not to stay at the firm, a decision Steve had struggled with. But as he’d predicted, there were people who talked about their relationship and Steve knew he often tried to hide it from him. Steve had felt guilt that Bucky given up a job he loved, worrying he would resent him for it in the end.

There were also days they argued. One of the things Steve loved so fiercely was his strong will. Bucky was every bit as stubborn and independent as Steve was, a fact that often led to heated arguments, but he never let him get away with closing himself off and always called Steve on his bullshit. He loved him even more for it.

Bucky had grown so much in the time they’d been together, always reminding him that what they had was what mattered; the rest would work itself out in the end. Steve fell in love with him all over again during the time that followed, seeing him not only as the man he couldn't resist but the best friend he could never live without.

Steve knew it was time.

The next day he went shopping, and the moment he saw the ring now residing in his pocket, he’d known it was perfect for Bucky. Somehow, he had managed to keep it hidden, all the while dreaming of the day that he would ask him to spend their life together. 

As they rounded the last corner and the cafe came into view, the intensity of his anticipation left him unable to form words.

"Is this it?" Bucky had asked excitedly and he nodded as he opened the door for him, his head suddenly swimming as his hopes for the future swirled about. Everything culminating in this powerful moment literally taking his breath away.

Sensing his mood, Bucky eyed him curiously as he guided them to a table in the back. Steve watched him eye the menu, biting back a chuckle as he frowned adorably, attempting to decipher the French. 

Glancing up, Bucky met his gaze from across the small table, a look of concern etched across his features.

"Honey?"

His hand came to rest on Steve’s, squeezing gently, and he lifted his chin to meet his silvery eyes. The same certainty resonated in his heart as it had that night. Steve moved to entwine his fingers with the brunet’s, seeing for the first time how entwined his life was with him, how he saw no future for himself that didn't include Bucky in it, as his partner, his best friend, his husband.

Looking into his eyes, seeing his concern, Steve let every doubt fall from his shoulders. Regardless of his answer tonight, Bucky loved him.

Completely.

Steve ran his thumb along the brunet’s ring finger and smiled, wanting to remember every second of this.

Bucky leaned forward, his lips lingering against Steve’s before brushing along his cheek.

"I love you," the younger man whispered, placing another kiss near his ear.

Bucky gasped softly and perked up, looking beyond his shoulder. "It's snowing."

Steve turned briefly to watch the large flakes fall to the ground before returning his attention to him.

"It's so beautiful," Bucky murmured, his face the picture of perfect happiness.

"It is." Steve reached out, brushing the backs of his fingers along the brunet’s cheek. "I regret nothing," Steve murmured to himself as he remembered Bucky’s tattoo, his heart began to race over what was coming. The whole and utter truth of those words resonated within him. Bucky turned and smiled knowingly, understanding the familiar phrase. “Nu regret nimic,” Bucky translated it to his mother tongue softly in response. 

"You know…" Steve began, "That was always true before. Mistakes helped me grow. But I've come to understand that, of all the mistakes I've made in my life, the only one I regret is not letting myself love you sooner. That I pushed you away for so long."

"I…" he started, but Steve continued.

"I never want to be without you, baby," the blond began, his thumb running along Bucky’s jaw. "I'm so grateful that you love me. I have so many flaws…made so many mistakes, and yet you love me despite them."

Bucky shook his head as he ran his hand through his blond hair. "I love all of you."

Closing his eyes, Steve absorbed his words, feeling the truth of them wash over himself. He kissed Bucky’s hand before reaching into his pocket and placing the items on the table before him.

His gaze followed Steve’s and he watched as the moment of understanding completely captured his expression.

"Oh my God," he gasped, his visibly trembling hands moving to his mouth, his blue eyes glistening with tears already. "I don't…"

On the table sat a tiny statue of the Eiffel Tower, the ring resting around it.

"I want to give you the world," Steve explained, moving to peer into his eyes. "This is just the first piece." Steve took his hands in his own as he watched the tears fall down his flushed cheeks.

"I'm not willing to let another second go by without telling you what you mean to me. It may have taken them a while to get here but I want you in a way I won't ever want anyone else." Steve held the simple silver band out to him. "Will you spend your life with me?"

Bucky nodded without hesitation, unable to speak and Steve took his hand placing the ring onto his finger. Steve squeezed his hands gently, his eyes closing as the magnitude of what this meant washed over him.

He said 'yes'.

"I love you," Steve whispered, wiping his tear-streaked face with his thumbs. When he looked at Steve, his eyes so full of love and joy, a sense of fulfillment settled over him, but it was different. Stronger than he'd ever felt before. Bucky gripped his shirt and pulled Steve to him, their lips connecting.

"I love you, too," he said breathlessly between kisses. "I love you more than I ever thought possible."

Steve laughed through wet eyes as the brunet pressed kisses along his face, his hands moving to fist in his blond hair.

The world around them disappeared as his lips found Steve’s again. Voices faded into the background, the music floating around them a distant hum. Steve’s senses focused on the man his arms, the silky texture of his hair as it slipped through his fingers, the way he tasted, the sounds he made.

"Take me back to the hotel," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing the shape of his jaw. Steve nodded, jumping up and tossing a few bills to the table before taking his hand to lead him out the door.

They practically ran the distance to their hotel as the snow fell around them, stopping several times as one of them pulled the other into a fevered kiss, promises of what was to come spoken in breathy whispers.

By the time they entered the elevator, Steve was ready to tear the clothes from his body, but he kept his patience. When the doors opened, he backed the younger man down the hall, uncaring of who would see and loving that he no longer needed to. Steve fumbled with the key card as they reached their room, the door closed for only seconds before Bucky pressed the blond’s body roughly against it.

"I need you," Bucky panted, his fingers moving frantically to unfasten Steve’s jacket, his lips moving in a path down his neck.

"Here?" Steve asked, the brunet’s coat already in a pile at his feet, his shirt practically ripped off and tossed to the chair next to them.

"Please," Bucky pleaded. Steve’s shirt soon followed the brunet’s and he shuddered as the cool wood of the door pressed against his back. The sound of the blond’s belt and zipper followed by the rustle of denim was loud in the silent room, but Steve had no time to focus as he pushed the jeans quickly down his hips and they both kicked their shoes off hastily,

Steve turned them, Bucky’s back now against the door, his hands traveling down his legs to trace along the younger man’s belt then down to cup his growing erection, which enticed a breathy moan from him. 

"Fuck," Bucky groaned as his hands moved to twist in Steve’s hair. "Take me like you used to."

His simple words sparked something raw and primal inside Steve’s chest.

"You mean how I couldn't breathe until I was inside you?" Steve asked, groaning as his tongue swept across his lower lip, "Yeah," he answered shakily.

Steve wasted no time opening the fly and helping Bucky rid himself of his pants.

"How I drove myself mad imagining touching you again?" Steve murmured against his lips, brushing his fingertips along his ribs, feeling the skin react beneath his touch.

"Fuck, yes."

"I imagined you naked," Steve whispered as he traced his lips lightly along the brunet’s neck. "Every day."

"What you sounded like… how you tasted." Steve leaned down slightly, his lips sweeping along his sternum and chest before taking his pink nipple into his mouth. He groaned at the feel of Bucky against his tongue, at the way his hands tightened in his blond hair.

"I love it when you talk like that," Bucky whispered, his head quietly thudding against the door.

Steve moved to his other nipple, his teeth scraping and nibbling, his hands exploring every inch of skin.

"I wanted to take you on every surface around us. Your desk, my desk, my car, the conference table…," Steve managed between the movement of his lips, slipping a hand down Bucky’s taut stomach, his fingers encircling his cock. He arched into Steve’s touch, just as he always had.

"You like that, don't you?" Steve asked in a low voice, smiling against his skin.

"I still remember what it felt like… to finally have you inside me," he answered, breathless from the blond’s teasing. Glancing up, Steve met his lidded eyes with his own dark ones.

"Did you imagine us together like that, baby?" Steve questioned, wanting to know if he had been as tormented as Steve had been.

"All the time… from the first moment I saw you."

Steve stood, groaning against his mouth, remembering how he'd wanted him to feel that way, and loving that they could talk about it now. 

"So you want me to take you like I used to?" Steve teased, bringing his hands to the younger man’s hips and turning him around to face the door. That was so fucking sexy. "Fuck," Steve murmured, my fingers brushing along the notches of his spine. Steve’s lips feathering along his shoulder, before he kissed just below his ear, his breath floating along his skin. “I can’t wait to be buried inside you,” he almost growled as his hand continued down his spine to the crease of his ass. 

"Oh God, please," Bucky whimpered, his palms coming to rest on the wood door in front of him, arching back into Steve’s touch. 

"Do you want that?" Steve taunted, his snaking around to press his fingers to the brunet’s lips. Bucky parted his lips without hesitation, sucking on them greedily as Steve kissed along his neck.

"I'm so fucking hard for you right now," Steve murmured, running my jaw along the younger man’s neck, knowing the roughened texture only added to his desperation. "I wanted you to say my name." He pulled his fingers from his mouth and brought them around to draw teasing circles around Bucky’s entrance, his body now shaking with just Steve’s words. "To scream my name."

The lean muscles in his back flexed with each breath, his anticipation palpable as Steve added pressure with the pad of his finger. 

"You are so beautiful," Steve breathed, between kissing and sucking along Bucky’s pulse point. "And I can't wait to make you mine."

Bucky turned quickly and pulled him close, silently agreeing with his words. The heat of him against Steve was incredible, and their bare chests brushed together. Steve wanted to feel him and he felt the same way, the need in his frenzied kiss nearly bringing the blond to his knees.

The space between them filled with moans and pleading whispers, as his fingers trailed down Steve’s body to wrap around his cock.

Steve pulled back to watch along with him, trembling at the sight of his fingers moving up and down his length. Bucky touched him as if this were new as if he were fascinated with how he fit in his palm, exploring the textures and the shape.

His nails scraped lightly, the soft pad of his thumb moving slowly around the head. Steve closed his eyes, feeling each finger as it closed around him, the rush of blood and lust hardening him further under his touch.

"I need you," he whispered, his hands now moving to Steve’s neck, pulling him closer. His cock rested and grinded against his, and he lifted his gaze, his eyes searching Bucky’s face before falling to his soft, full mouth.

He fucking needed him too.

In one movement Steve lifted him, pressing him back against the door, a tremor rocking through Steve as his legs encircled his hips. He rolled his hips, grinding their dicks together again, causing Bucky’s eyes to roll back at the friction. Steve’s fingers returned to his entrance and resumed their ministrations to prepare the younger man. Their lips connected again as Steve finally breached the resistance and pushed his finger in slowly. The brunet locked his ankles behind Steve’s back, pulling him closer as Steve worked up to adding a second finger along with the first. 

“Always so fucking tight, so perfect,” Steve said huskily as he rolled his hips again. He curled his fingers in the way he knew made sparks light up inside Bucky. 

“Ple- another please,” came Bucky’s whimper as he attempted to grind his hips down unto Steve’s fingers, but did not have the leverage to do so. 

“I got you, I got ya Buck,” Steve soothed as he pressed their lips together in a kiss too chaste for the heated moment, bringing a third finger alongside the others. The younger man keened in response, burying his face in the blond’s neck to kiss there. 

“Please Steve, I need you,” Bucky was practically begging now as he began to squirm slightly in Steve’s grasp. 

Steve removed his fingers before stroking himself over a few times. His lips brushed along Bucky’s shoulder as he entered finally began to enter him, shuddering as his warmth slowly engulfed him, inch by perfect inch. The younger man’s head fell forward, his hand moving to the back of Steve’s head to thread tightly into his hair.

"Still like that first time?" Steve asked, barely able to speak.

"Yes," he hissed, his legs tightening, his strong thighs flexing around Steve. With his face buried in the brunet’s neck, he began moving inside of him, his body sliding against the wood with each thrust.

"I still remember every second…the way you looked underneath me," Steve whispered, sucking gently on his neck.

"The way you looked as you fucked me. How it felt to know I made you look that way," Bucky said fiercely, his hips meeting Steve, their movements, as always, perfectly synced.

"It was like every fantasy I'd ever had," The blond gasped, loving the way he gripped his shoulders, his hair, and any place Bucky could reach. He wanted more now, so he went deeper, harder, his fingers pressing into the younger man’s skin.

"If you would've taken me sooner, I would've let you…you could've had any part of me you wanted."

"Don't say that," Steve begged. "Don't say I could have had you all that time."

His head fell to Bucky’s shoulder, his muscles tensing as his release began to build.

"I wanted you so badly," he breathed into his hair. "And now you're mine."

Now you're mine…

Steve was his.

"Oh God, baby… fuck," Steve gasped, so overcome by his words, he felt himself begin to tremble.

"Over there," he motioned.

Understanding, Steve carried him on shaky legs to the chaise against the wall, his legs straddling his hips as he sat.

"No," Bucky began, shaking his head, his breaths coming in pants. "Lay down." Steve felt his palms push roughly against his chest, the feel of the soft velvet cool against his back.

His eyes consumed the brunet, his hands roaming his skin, reaching up to draw his hand along his stomach and chest as he began to move above him.

He was perfection, completely lost in the sensation of their bodies being connected. Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth, his eyes closed in concentration.

His nipples brushed against Steve’s palms as he rode him, and he traced them with his fingers before tugging lightly.

"Harder," he gasped, his hand closing over Steve’s, encouraging him to tease more. He loved this about Bucky, that he could tell Steve what he wanted, take what was his. He lifted his leg to rest along the blond’s shoulder, the movement forcing him deeper, the friction surrounding his dick too perfect to hold on to.

"I'm coming…I'm coming," Steve moaned, panicked that Bucky wasn't there yet. Moving his hand between them, he wrapped his fist around the younger man’s cock, loving the way he looked down to watch. "Are you close?"

"Fuck, yes," he groaned. "More."

With his free hand, Steve gripped him roughly, his hips lifting from the cushion to bury himself deeper.

"Yes, just like that."

Bucky leaned forward, his hands moving to the blond’s chest. With a groan, Steve began to tense, the sensation pooling in his legs and stomach now spreading throughout his body.

He moaned Steve’s name, his voice low and desperate as he felt Bucky come around him.

Thankful to let go, he closed his eyes and with one final thrust, he released inside of him.

Bucky collapsed down against his chest. "That was…" he panted, his breath almost cold as it fanned across his damp skin.

"I know," Steve answered, his voice shaky. "It always is." He wrapped his arms around him. "I'm not sure if I can walk."

Bucky laughed against his shoulder and he kissed his brown hair, exhaling deeply as he tried to catch his breath. Steve ran his hands along his bare back, loving these moments of perfection.

"Are you cold?" Steve asked as a shiver traveled through the brunet.

"No," he answered softly, stifling a small yawn. He chuckled as he sat up, taking Bucky with him to the massive King-sized bed.

Laying him down, Steve collapsed behind him, pulling him back to his chest.

"I love you," he murmured and Bucky sighed and snuggled back against him, turning his head to kiss him softly.

"I love you too," he returned it, the smile evident in his voice.

Steve exhaled deeply, a feeling of completeness he'd never felt expanding in his chest. His eyelids fluttered as exhaustion began to overtake him.

Bucky yawned and sighed quietly, as Steve smiled against his skin, just as he drifted off to sleep.

\---

Steve awoke the next morning to find his arms wrapped around a pillow instead of his fiancé. Rubbing his eyes and running a hand across his roughened jaw, he sat up and looked around the unusually cool room, unprepared for the sight awaiting him.

In the balcony doorway, looking out over the now empty Paris streets, Bucky stood. He sat up quietly, his back against the headboard, the sheet low on his hips as his eyes moved appreciatively along the brunet’s body. 

Steve moved quietly to stand behind him, smiling as his arms moved over his head to tangle in the back of Steve’s hair. The blond wrapped the sheet around their bodies, pulling him close and placing a line of kisses along his neck.

"Good morning," Steve whispered, loving the way he leaned back into him.

"Mmm, good morning."

"Aren't you cold?" Steve asked, tightening his grasp in an attempt to warm his cool body against his warm one.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "It was getting a bit cool," he answered.

"But it's so beautiful and I feel so…." He trailed off and motioned to the view beyond the window, the Eiffel Tower standing against the backdrop of the lightening Paris sky.

Steve knew exactly what he meant.

His hand moved slowly down the younger man’s body, the familiar curves and smooth lines beckoning him to explore further, but coming to rest around his waist.

He placed his chin on Bucky’s shoulder and watched the world move beyond their window, a soft smile lifting his cheek against Steve’s. Closing his eyes, Steve pressed another kiss against his neck, trembling slightly as a rush of emotion threatened to overwhelm him. He lingered there, filling his lungs with the familiar scent he longed for, his lips brushing along his skin, knowing Steve had everything in this world he cherished right here in his arms. 

"I love you," Bucky whispered, his hand moving to rest on top of Steve’s.

"Inima are motivele sale,” he added in a murmur, his eyes closing, understanding the depth of those words completely.

"The heart has its reasons," Steve said softly, translating the younger man’s words perfectly. Their lessons were paying off and Steve was quickly learning Bucky's mother language. 

"Din care motivul nu înseamnă nimic." Bucky smiled, waiting for the blond to continue.

"Of which reason means nothing."

\---

Steve placed his hands behind his head and continued counting the ceiling tiles above the bed. There were forty-seven.

Restless, he looked at the illuminated watch in the dark, swearing at the time. One a.m. here would make it four in New York. Steve frowned, reminding himself Bucky would be asleep, that waking him up was selfish. He swallowed and resumed his ceiling vigil, ignoring the way his chest constricted as he imagined the brunet in their bed. The sheets would be twisted around his body; his soft sounds would fill the room. Would he still sleep nude without Steve there next to him? He swallowed as he imagined all the times he’d awaken at night and only had to reach out and touch Bucky. He’d never take that for granted again.

Tossing the watch to the nightstand, Steve picked up his phone. No calls.

"Fuck," he mumbled to himself.

Today had been long and tedious and all he'd wanted to do when he got back to his hotel was sleep. Hell, he’d thought he’d be passed out before his head even hit the pillow.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

Sitting up, Steve finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipped it off his shoulders and tossed it to the chair next to the bed. With a resigned sigh, he stood and made his way to the bar; Scotch had always proved to be a great sleeping aid.

Tilting the glass to his lips, Steve reached for the remote and collapsed on the leather sofa, letting the burn of the liquor sooth his boredom. His initial search for something entertaining proved fruitless, but he finally settled on an old movie.

The black and white characters moved across the screen in front of him, their words just noise to break up the silence. Bucky would like this, he thought, remembering with a smile the countless movie marathons they had ignored as they kissed or made love on the couch. He shook his head; even mindless entertainment offered him no escape from his memory.

With his feet on the leather ottoman, he finished his drink in a long swallow. Maybe he should just get the bottle.

With a second drink in hand, Steve returned to his seat, closing his eyes as the warm liquor moved through his system. Much better.

He felt his muscles begin to relax as he attempted to forget the day, trying not to think of Bucky wrapped in their sheets back home, alone and naked. Exhaling deeply as his thoughts began to drift, he lost that battle.

The image of Bucky, warm and soft, his skin glowing in the pale light from their bedroom window appeared in his mind. He would be snoring softly by now, one hand twisted in his hair, the other stretched out to Steve’s side of the bed. He wondered if the brunet fell asleep quickly, if he missed Steve as much as he missed Bucky...he locked the doors before falling asleep.

"He's fine," Steve muttered in an attempt to reassure himself. Bucky was a grown man who'd lived alone long before Steve entered his life. Unfortunately, tonight this thought did not bring him any comfort.

He frowned as he remembered their fight. Bucky was so stubborn and Steve was so pushy; every argument, regardless of the subject always came down this- a battle of wills. He would tell Steve 'no' and the blond would push, Bucky would storm off and Steve would slam a door. How had two such hard-headed people found each other? Shaking his head at the thought, he laughed softly to himself. They were perfect together, he mused, his smile fading as quickly as it had arrived.

Steve hadn't even said goodbye.

Sitting up, he set his empty glass on the table more forcefully than was needed and ran his hands through his hair. Steve had regretted leaving that way all day today, thoughts of Bucky so distracting he could hardly think. Maybe Steve had been wrong? He had a tendency to be selfish at times… what exactly had they been fighting about to begin with?

Scratching his jaw, Steve paced the length of the room, his slightly drunken thoughts unable to leave their bed in New York. He remembered standing in the entryway before leaving on his business trip, his bags at his feet as he’d listened to the sound of their empty penthouse. No laughter filled the rooms, no lips were there to kiss him goodbye. The stillness had clenched his chest like a fist.

Steve walked to the window and looked out over the flickering city lights, thinking of how much Bucky would enjoy the view.

Maybe it wasn't so selfish to call him. Steve glanced over to his silent phone; maybe he'd been worried about bothering Steve. It was certainly possible, he mused. He turned his attention back to the skyline, seeing his sullen reflection in the glass. Maybe, he wondered, maybe Bucky regretted the way they’d left things just as much as he did.

Steve had been an ass.

He missed him.

He should call.

But I'll wake him.

Maybe Bucky was awake too.

Steve can't…

Suddenly, the phone buzzed from the nightstand and his head shot up. Quicker than he thought possible, it was in his hand, his heart nearly stopping as Bucky’s name flashed across the screen. He had sent a text.

Bucky. It was him.

‘Are you awake?’

He was still up?

‘It's after 4 there, why aren't you asleep?’

A long pause followed.

‘You're not here.’

The phone rang before Steve finished going to Bucky's contact number.

"Hi."

"Hi," Bucky answered back. Steve’s eyes closed at the sound of his raspy voice. He sounded as lonely as Steve felt.

His chest ached as he pictured him once again.

"Are you okay? Are the doors locked?" Steve asked urgently, the worry in his voice clear even to himself.

"The doors are locked, the alarm is set, and I'm okay. I just… I miss you." Bucky’s voice trailed off as if he had more to say.

"Bucky," he whispered, relief flooding through him, his earlier regret returning. "I miss you too, baby. I shouldn't…I didn't…" Steve had meant to apologize, but now that he had the brunet on the line, he couldn't recall why they'd even argued. He exhaled loudly into the receiver, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Bucky, what were we even arguing about?"

He swallowed. "I don't know anymore. About who was right…who would give in first." He paused and Steve wished he could see him right then, wished he could hold him. Bucky sighed, soft and so familiar that he found himself straining to hear any sound from home. "I'm sorry, Steve. Sometimes I can be…stubborn and opinionated." The last words came out in a rush and Steve couldn't help but chuckle. How alike they are, how perfect they were for each other. He wouldn't want it any other way.

"I love that you're stubborn and opinionated, and to be honest, I love fighting with you because I love when we make up." He was unable to keep from smiling as he thought back to how often that happened. "You never back down and I love you for it, I just don't want them to fight before parting ever again."

"I know," Bucky answered, his voice cracking slightly.

"I love you, Bucky. More than I could ever tell you." He leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs, wishing again they were together.

The younger man sighed once more; a relieved, breathy sound that left Steve smiling. "I love you, too, Steve. I didn't even get to kiss you goodbye."

His smile widened at his words; he knew Steve so well. "I didn't get to make love to you before I left, but you're all I've thought about," the blond said truthfully.

"I can't think when you talk like that."

His insides flickered to life. "I can't think, either…about anything," he whispered.

The line was silent for a moment, only the sound of Bucky's breathing audible.

"I miss you," Bucky repeated, his words exactly what Steve needed to hear. "I miss how you smell…I miss the way you sound when I touch you."

"Bucky…" Steve began, wanting to tell him he felt the same.

"Where are you?" The brunet cut him off, his voice deeper now.

What was he doing? Steve wondered. "In my room."

"Are you dressed?" He asked. The blond sat up, his brows lifting in surprise.

"Just my pants," He answered curiously, a smile pulling at his mouth as he awaited his response.

More silence.

"Take them off, Steve."

Oh, fuck. Bucky sounded turned on, so he did as he asked without protest, picturing him again in their bed, the blankets tangled around him.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his previous image transforming into dirtier thoughts as Steve imagined him touching himself now. "Are you touching yourself, Bucky?"

"Maybe a little," he teased, the sound of his sexy voice stiffening Steve’s cock.

"Where is your hand, baby?" He asked, his palm moving slowly down his bare chest to rest on his now straining erection.

"On my chest." Picturing him touching his nipples, pinching and pulling the soft, pink skin made Steve groan.

"Are you naked?" He asked, hoping he was.

"Not yet."

"Take it all off. I don't want anything in my way."

Bucky complied immediately, the sound of his clothes being removed and their rustling sheets filled the line for a moment. "Done."

Steve closed his eyes, gripping himself more firmly as he imagined Bucky lying on top of the sheets, his body exposed to the colder air, nipples taut and ready for his mouth. Fuck, he wanted to be there. "Put the phone on speaker and lay it on the pillow next to you," he said, moving to lie back against his own cool sheets.

"Okay."

"Are the lights out?"

"Yes," Bucky answered, his voice edged with anticipation.

"Close your eyes."

"They're closed."

"Lay your hands on your stomach, tell me what you feel," Steve told him, remembering how he felt under his fingers.

"Warm...fluttery," he laughed quietly.

"Move them up your body, to your hair."

"Okay," he said, a bit more breathlessly than before. 

"What does your hair feel like tonight, Bucky?"

Steve waited patiently, imaging him feeling his own hair, how the strands would look as they fell from his fingertips. He hummed a soft contented sound. "It's soft, a little damp from my shower."

Steve moved his hand up to his own abdomen, just as he'd asked Bucky to do. His senses seemed to be amplified with only the sound and memory of him to focus on. He closed his eyes to his memory, recalling the texture of the younger man’s hair, the feel of each muscle under his fingertips.

His pulse was racing. He wondered if his was, too.

"Slide your hand slowly down your neck to your chest. Can you feel your heart?"

"Yes, Steve."

"Tell me about it."

"It's racing," he answered, using the words from Steve’s own thoughts. He smiled, knowing he had caused that, hearing him swallow and breathe erratically.

“I wish you were here," he breathed.

"I know, baby, so do I. Touch your nipples for me, just how you like it."

Bucky liked him to trace along the delicate skin slowly, moving closer with each pass. He liked it gentle at first, for Steve to take his hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently, rolling it again before pinching. His soft cry filled his ear and Steve knew exactly what he had done. He had watched him, touched him so many times, the image formed in his mind with perfect clarity.

"Steve…" His voice was a whimper, a soft plea filled with need.

"Pinch them harder," Steve commanded. "Do it just like I would."

"Yes," he said breathlessly.

"Imagine my mouth there," Steve began, his own previously-still hand now slipping lower, his fingertips brushing along the base of his cock. "Remember how it feels when I take them between my teeth."

Bucky gasped and he lifted his head, watching as the backs of his fingers moved up and down his shaft. His erection bobbed lightly over his stomach, the sensitive head swelling from the pressure.

He imagined Bucky in the moonlight as he touched himself, naked and open for him. He would be bare and glistening, the sight and scent of him pulling Steve near, drawing him in.

"Touch yourself, Bucky," he whispered, watching his hand, picturing the brunet beneath him, arms stretched above his head, hands gripping the headboard as he hit that deep spot he liked.

"I want you to remember what it looks like when I'm on my knees in front of you," Bucky said unexpectedly, his voice a sultry purr. "How it feels when I taste you."

"I'm remembering the way you look at me when I have you in my mouth, the way it feels to have your hands wrapped roughly in my hair," the younger man continued, knowing what he was doing to Steve, to both of them.

His breath hitched again, his throat sounded rough and dry, a note of desperation now coloring his tone. "I love when you pull me down to you…when you fuck my mouth."

"Oh God," Steve groaned, his free hand clenching beside him, twisting the sheets as his thumb brushed over the head of his dick. "Baby, you have no idea what it does to me to hear you talk like that."

"God, yes," Bucky moaned. "Are you touching yourself?"

"I am, baby," he answered, his eyes closing as he continued to imagine the brunet. "I wish it was you. I wish your ass was wrapped around me, warm and wet. God," Steve grunted as his thumb found a particularly sensitive spot. "I wish you were riding me right now."

Bucky groaned and Steve let his eyes slip closed at the sound, knowing how much he loved to watch the blond, often sitting on the edge of the bed, his breath heavy, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched Steve bring himself to orgasm. He would encourage him with only his words, telling Steve how much he liked what he saw, instructing him on what else he wanted.

Bucky would tell him to be louder, to tell him what Steve felt, what he needed. He'd never been freer with anyone, able to let go of control, to be led where he'd only dreamt. All these things Bucky did with just his voice, his image, sometimes never touching Steve or letting him touch the brunet. Steve would listen and comply, watching Bucky’s eyes darken with lust, his voice full of want and praise as Steve would come explosively all over his own chest.

"Tell me everything," he said. The sound of fabric rustled in the background again, the image of his long legs moving restlessly in the sheets as he touched himself filling Steve’s head. "Are you in the bed now?"

"Yes."

"And you're naked?"

His hand moved along the length of his cock, his grip tightening with each pass. "Yes."

Opening his eyes, Steve looked down to my lap, the head of his erection swollen and glistening. He hissed as he watched his cock slide effortlessly in and out of his grip.

"Tell me," Bucky pleaded.

"I'm stroking my cock," Steve started, his hips lifting from the mattress, the feeling indescribable. "I wish you could see it, I know how much you like that."

"Mmm," he hummed. "I love watching you."

"My dick is so hard, baby…all I can think about is you."

"And what would you do if you were here?"

"I'd push you on your hands and knees and take you from behind." His hand continued to move in tandem with his hips, his palm sliding along the shaft and rotating over the head before moving downward again. "I'd smack your perfect ass and fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. Or maybe I'd lay you on the kitchen counter and take your cock down my throat." Steve smiled as his name fell from Bucky’s lips in a breathy sigh, his own imagination beginning to run wild.

"How would that feel, baby? We could even go shopping, there's an Armani in the city, and you know how much I love their dressing rooms."

"Tease," he whispered.

"Not a tease, a promise." Steve’s eyes closed again, remembering the last time he'd taken him there.

The way he'd looked bent over at the waist, his hands supporting his weight on the soft velvet cushion, their eyes locked in the mirror as he'd fucked him from behind. Steve pictured the way he'd had to cover his mouth, how his eyes had closed and his muffled cries had sent Steve over the edge. "Do you remember?"

"Oh God, yes." His breath filtered through the speaker in shaky gasps, and indistinguishable words like, 'more,' 'please' and 'close' seemed to tumble from his lips.

Bucky’s wanton pleas sent a shudder through the blond, the rhythm of his movements now frantic and disorganized. Stroking faster, harder, his cock ached for release as his body trembled. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face as he lifted himself to watch, imagining Bucky’s head bobbing between his legs.

His thoughts were even more disjointed, his fantasies shifting wildly from one to the next. He knew Bucky looked similar at this moment, he would also be impatiently stroking his fist over his own aching dick. He remembered the way Bucky felt when he’d fucked him in his car, how he'd straddled Steve’s lap in the front seat when they’d pulled over to check the map. He could almost hear the way the brunet sounded as he'd taken him in the shower, the way Steve’s name had echoed off the tile walls. Steve took what he needed from each encounter, letting the images play across his closed eyes as his head fell back to the pillow. He loved the way Bucky sounded, the way he looked when he came.

"Open your legs wider and tease yourself," Steve said breathlessly. "Let me hear you, baby. Please. I need to hear you." Steve was becoming desperate, the pressure building in his cock, the urge to thrust, to take, to scream out in release almost too much to bear.

"I'm coming," Bucky moaned, throaty and deep. "Oh, God. I'm…I..."

His body tensed as he imagined Bucky, back arched, legs open, his fingers wrapped tightly around his perfect cock as he came over them. "Fuck!” Steve groaned.

His dick surged in his hand, his release shooting powerfully onto his chest and stomach, just the way Bucky liked. His arms shook as he continued stroking, the last remnants of his climax pulsing through him. With an exhausted sigh, Steve collapsed against the mattress, suddenly conscious of the stillness of his room, the cool air on his damp skin.

"Jesus," Bucky panted, his rapid breaths as labored as Steve’s.

"I know." The blond. ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and looked down at himself. "I think I need a shower now."

“Me too,” Bucky chuckled softly. "I think I'm ready to sleep too." He sighed and Steve could almost hear the contented smile that surely graced his face. His chest warmed as he pictured it.

"Go to sleep baby, I'll only be a phone call away when you wake up." Steve’s mind raced through his schedule, already deciding that he would catch the next flight and hopefully be home before Bucky woke.

"Okay." Bucky’s breathing deepened.

"Goodnight, Bucky." Steve moved to end the call when his voice sounded through the speaker.

"Steve?"

"Bucky?"

"I love you."

Steve smiled. "I love you, too."

\---

Steve did get the earliest flight back to New York, unable to be apart from Bucky for too long and aching to make it up to the brunet, to truly let him know he was sorry for their argument, whether he started it or not. 

It was almost as soon as he walked through the door that Bucky was on him. A few rushed words before he had captured Steve’s lips in a heated kiss. This makeout session quickly escalated and now the two men were on the couch, Bucky under Steve as they kissed and explored each other’s bodies with their hands. Steve’s suitcase and jacket had been abandoned by the door and now they were ridding each other of their clothes, the shirts coming off first followed by their pants. 

They were on the large leather couch in the living room, the cool fall rain cascading down the windows surrounding them. Finally, they had removed all the clothing as Steve moved down onto Bucky, grinding his hips down into the brunet’s.

“Fuck, I missed you, I missed your perfect body,” Steve groaned as he tilted his head to suck on the younger man’s pulse point, causing him to writhe slightly under him. “So fucking hot.”

"God, I love hearing you talk like that," he whispered breathily. Releasing his hold from the couch, Bucky shoved his fingers into Steve’s hair, pulling him up to him as their mouths connected. 

"You like it when I talk dirty to you, baby?" Steve murmured against his lips, his hands rubbing up and down his sides.

"Yes," he answered breathlessly, rolling his hips up against Steve to grind their erections together again.

Bucky’s hands moved to the blond’s waist before traveling down to his ass to knead the muscle lightly before he pulled Steve roughly to him, their hips meeting again, his finger grazing lower to the crease and lingering for a moment. He waited a moment before his fingers inched lower, grazing lightly over Steve’s hole. Steve groaned low in his throat and bit at Bucky’s neck in response. 

Had he liked that?

Bucky did it again, his finger pressing against him more firmly.

"Ugh, Buck."

"Do you like that, Steve?"

He groaned, nodding slightly as he rested his forehead against the brunet’s shoulder.

"Do you want me to do it again?"

"Yes," he almost pleaded.

"Would you ever want me to be inside you?" Oh please. Oh please.

"God, yes," Steve said, his voice a mere whisper against the younger man’s skin.

Bucky’s mind flashed to an image of having him that way, of pushing into him, claiming him in a way he'd never done before. He nearly came with the intensity of that thought.

Steve’s movements sped up, each rock of his hips bringing them both closer to the edge. Bucky continued to touch him, to brush against the delicate skin, his fingers pressing firmly, yet never penetrating.

Steve raised himself up onto one arm, pulling away from the brunet’s neck to peer down their bodies as his free hand wrapped around both of their cocks. He began to stroke them together, the slide easy with precome. 

"Fuck, Steve. God that feels so good." Bucky’s swore as he tried to keep his hips from bucking frantically into the blond’s fist. He was approaching the edge quick and he knew he couldn’t stop. And going by the look on Steve’s face and his heavy panting, he wasn’t far behind.

It did ultimately turn out to be Bucky who reached his peak first, as he spilled messily over Steve’s fist and both of their cocks. This seemed like it was enough to push Steve over as he groaned before his body tensed as he released into his fist as well. He whispered Bucky’s name as he stilled, his chest still heaving.

"That was insane," Bucky panted, eyes slipping closed for a brief moment.

"I would agree," Steve breathed, smiling against Bucky’s lips, his hands brushing the brown hair off his forehead. Steve rested for a moment longer before reluctantly rising to retrieve a warm washcloth to clean them both up. He then joined Bucky on the couch, covering their naked and exhausted bodies in a nearby blanket. They held each other and listened to the falling rain against the window as they talked in hushed voices and kissed lazily before falling asleep.

\---

Bucky's POV

Bucky woke alone a few hours later, the smells of dinner coming from the kitchen. Standing from the couch, he pulled on his jeans and crossed the room, smiling to see Steve in only his briefs, a huge pan of stir fry on the stove in front of him.

"Handsome?" He called from the doorway. Steve looked up and he felt the familiar pull in his chest as he smiled at the brunet. "I'm gonna jump in the shower and I'll be right out." Walking up to him, Steve placed a long, chaste kiss against his lips.

"Dinner will be ready when you're out."

"I love you," he whispered against his mouth. "I'll hurry."

He nodded and shooed Bucky out, smacking his ass as he turned. Bucky shook his head, laughing as he headed to the shower.

Under the hot spray, his mind wandered back to their afternoon activity on the couch. Steve’s reaction to Bucky’s accidental fondling had surprised him. He'd fantasized about having the blond in every way imaginable, but he'd never dreamed that he could share some of those same desires. Steve came off as so confident and powerful like he could never be anything but a top. But his reaction and words that afternoon almost turned Bucky on his head, was there a possibility they could have each other in that way? Or was that just Steve’s sex brain talking?

He wanted him completely; he wanted them to explore each other's bodies, experience new things together.

Physically, there had never been any limits between them. Bucky’s body reacted to the blond on its own, to his very nearness. And yet, there was something about this conversation that he was hesitant to discuss with him. Was he worried that Steve would say no? 

They could have an adult conversation about their fantasies and what they wanted to share.

"Steve?” Bucky began, the piece of French bread he held in his hands quickly turning into a pile of crumbs on his plate. He'd been attempting to say something for the last ten minutes, his apprehension gathering strength with each tick of the antique clock in the hallway.

"Hmm?" Steve hummed, distracted.

He took a sip of his wine, his baby blue eyes focused on the food and his phone.

"Um…" he began, his anxiety still grasping him tightly.

"You were going to ask me something?" 

"Right." Bucky ran my hand roughly through his hair and paused at the sound of Steve’s quiet laughter.

"Buck, are you nervous about something?" He questioned, the corner of his mouth lifting into a mischievous smirk.

"No," He lied, wishing he'd just grow a set and get this over with. "I was just wondering…I mean I couldn't help but notice back at the couch-"

"Mmmm," Steve hummed, "I liked the couch."

Bucky suppressed a groan, his lower half already trying to respond to the image of the couch that popped into his brain.

"Well," Bucky began, leaning forward, his forearms resting on the smooth wooden table. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to like it when I…"

"When you…?" He paused as he waited for the brunet to continue, a small smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

Bucky watched him through narrowed eyes, knowing that he understood exactly what he was talking about.

"When I touched your hot little ass," Bucky finally answered, loving the way Steve played with him.

"Ohhh." He breathed. " That."

"Yes, that. Have you ever…or I mean, is that something you're interested in?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I shou…wait. Did you just say 'yes'?" The younger man gazed at him in astonishment.

"Yes. That is something I would be interested in. Why do you look so surprised?"

He drew circles on the rim of his wine glass, his jaw slackened in disbelief. Could this really be possible? Bucky adjusted himself slightly as his words replayed in his head.

"So you're saying…"

"Yes," he smiled, running his finger around the top of his wine glass.

"That you'll let me…"

"Yes," he growled, leaning back in his chair.

"Fuck you-"

"Yes, Bucky," he taunted, clearly loving his obvious enthusiasm. "Do you not want to?"

Was he kidding?

"Of course I want to! I just never imagined you would be so…agreeable." His gaze fell to his massacred bread briefly as he considered this. "Have you ever…?"

Steve shook his head slightly, "Not technically."

"Wait. What?" Bucky’s head snapped up. "What do you mean by 'not technically'?"

"Well, I haven't done that with another person, but I've experimented."

Bucky’s brain couldn't even comprehend what he was telling him. Did this mean that he-? His open-mouthed expression must have clued the blond in.

"I have tried it, baby," he said, licking his lips. He shrugged, "I was curious."

"Oh my God," the brunet groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. "My brain can't even comprehend this conversation. If I imagine you doing that, I'm going to fucking come in my pants."

"You're such a man." Steve shook his head and laughed, rolling his eyes as he watched him. "Bucky, I'm an adult. I know what I like and how to take care of it."

Bucky continued to watch him, his mind completely devoid of any response. 

"You like thinking about that, baby? About my hand on my cock while using my fingers fuck my ass?"

"Jesus Christ," Bucky breathed, adjusting himself for the third time since this conversation had started. "I think I need some alone time in the shower."

He laughed, obviously pleased with himself and stood, rounding the table to whisper in Bucky’s ear.

"Come on, I'll show you."

\---

Weeks had passed since their initial conversation, and during that time, they had experimented, sometimes Bucky would suck the blond off while milking his prostate or maybe he would eat him out. But they had yet to progress beyond fingering and rimming, and while he looked forward to sharing that with Steve, Bucky waited patiently.

Although Bucky never regretted the way their relationship began, he often found himself thinking of all that they had missed. They had always been rushed, always hiding from their feelings and never taking the time to savor their first moments together. He couldn't change the past, but he could ensure he didn't make the same mistake twice.

When the time came, Bucky wanted it to be the 'first time' they never had. He wanted to give instead of take, cherish instead of ravage and bring them together instead of pushing them apart.

Bucky woke to the feel of warm and persistent lips running down his neck and across his chest. 

"Baby?" He whispered, his voice still thick with sleep. He brushed his fingertips along Steve’s sides and biceps, groaning when he latched his mouth over one of the brunet’s nipples. 

"I want you," he murmured against his skin.

"Steve." He brushed his fingers along his jaw, his words and the feel of him going straight to his cock.

"I want you too, always."

His lips moved down Bucky’s abdomen as his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxer briefs. The younger man lifted his hips as he slid them down his legs, tossing them impatiently to the floor. Steve kissed his way back up his body and Bucky hissed as he bit along his hip, the blond’s lips pressing softly against his tattoo.

"I love it when you're like this," Bucky lifted his head from the pillow, watching as Steve’s mouth moved along his body, his dick hardening as he neared. "I love it when you want me so much you wake me up and take what's yours." His slight stubble scratching the skin of Bucky’s pelvis deliciously. 

"I want you to take me, Bucky," he growled, his lips brushing against the head. "I want this," he kissed it more firmly. "Inside me."

Bucky’s head fell back, the heel of his hands pressing against his eyes. He felt his warm breath, his lips sweep along the shaft, his teeth dragging gently across the tip.

"Fuck Steve," he groaned, his muscles tensing as he teased him. He pushed up onto his elbows to watch, unable to look away from the image of him between his legs, his tongue reaching out to taste his cock. He moaned in pleasure, the vibration pulsing through his body as he watched Steve take him into his mouth. His eyes drifted closed, his lashes sweeping along his cheeks, the twinkling city lights beyond the windows seemed to disappear as Bucky’s world centered on what he was making him feel and that singular point of contact.

He looked up at the brunet, his gaze locking as his mouth moved up and down along his length. His hand wrapped around the base of his dick, his tongue circling the head.

"Fuck, come here," Bucky keened, pulling him up, his hand moving into his blond hair. "What was it you said you wanted?"

Steve touched his lips to his, his kiss beginning chastely, his mouth warm and welcoming. He pressed softly, lingering before pulling away. He waited, his lips just out of reach, Bucky’s pulse thrumming in his ears.

Bucky’s eyes fell to his mouth, needing to taste it, remembering how it looked wrapped around him. He pulled back, hovering over the brunet as he caged him in with his arms.

"I want," he began, his tongue sweeping across Bucky’s bottom lip before moving down to his neck to kiss there. "You." Kiss. "To take me." Nip. ”Everywhere." Kiss. 

Bucky moaned deeply, his words going straight to his dick, the meaning of them ringing loudly in his ears.

Steve rose again to connect their mouths. Bucky’s hands fisted tightly into his blond hair as he tasted his mouth, a deep moan emanating from within the younger man’s chest.

"Steve, are you sure?" He asked between kisses.

"I've always been sure. I want you to have all of me, baby."

"I love you so much, Steve. You're everything in this world that's important to me." His thumb traced along his lower lip as he spoke, hoping he knew the depth of his words. Bucky’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering to his lips and back.

"I never doubt that anymore," he murmured, lifting his chin to kiss the brunet softly. "And I love you too."

His words soothed a rough and hungry part of him he didn't know still existed.

"Thank you," Bucky said softly, attempting to swallow around the lump in his throat. His whispered voice went no farther than the space between them, but he knew Steve heard.

Unable to keep from touching the blond any longer, Bucky pulled his lips to his own, his pulse increasing at the familiar way he fit against him. Bucky knew he was going to have to take some initiative so he rolled them so that he was now hovering over the blond, his weight on his forearms. The brunet tasted his lips, his collarbone, the soft skin beneath his ear.

"I want to have you, all of you," he said into Steve’s neck.

Steve’s hands ran up and down his body, his leg bent to place his foot flat on the bed. Bucky rocked his hips, his length teasing Steve’e own erection. Not breaking their kiss, he reached over, fumbling to open the nightstand drawer to remove the small bottle of lube kept there.

"You're so beautiful, Steve." He whispered against the crook of his neck, still awed that this man was his. Bucky circled his tongue around his nipple, groaning at the frantic way his hands threaded into his brown hair. The younger man moved to the neglected nipple, spurred on by his breathless pants.

"Bucky," he sighed, rolling his hips up against the brunet. Bucky took his time and smiled at the way he held his head, guiding the brunet, leading him to down to his erection.

Leaning in, Bucky placed a kiss against the tip before dragging his tongue across it. He closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure as he tasted him. His grip in the younger man’s hair tightened almost painfully as he took it into his mouth and sucked gently, before sinking down. Bucky helped Steve rotate his hips before he opened the small bottle of lube, coating his fingers.

"Is this what you want?" Bucky asked again to check in as he circled the blond’s entrance with is slick fingers.

“Yes,” he answered breathily as Bucky swallowed him down again.

Bucky added slight pressure with the pad of his middle finger, repeating the same careful steps he always used to open the blond up. He rocked his hips again, his finger beginning to slipping into him ever so slightly. The brunet felt him shudder in his arms as he continued to suck him off. 

"Okay?" Bucky asked and when he got a nod in response, he began to move his finger slowly in and out, pushing it deeper with each movement. He paid special attention to Steve’s face, making sure to be ready to pick up any hint of discomfort. 

"I can't wait until this is my cock, Steve," Bucky groaned, continuing to push his finger in and out of him. He slowly added a second finger along the first and scissored them carefully to open the blond.

"Yes. Oh God, yes," he groaned. "I want you inside of me. Now," he almost pleaded, his hips rocking roughly back and forth, his muscles clenching his fingers inside.

“Almost there, baby. I promise not much longer,” Bucky replied, not knowing if the last part was for Steve or himself as he thought about his hard dick pressed against the sheets, eager about the proceedings. Bucky was careful to keep him comfortable as he worked him up to a third finger. He continued to suck Steve off, taking him down his throat several times. 

“Okay okay I’m ready,” Steve eventually piped up again, his voice raspy and deep with arousal. 

Removing his fingers, Bucky moved up his body, hungry for his lips. Steve’s hands reached between them, grasping the brunet’s erection firmly.

"Do you feel how bad I want you, Steve? Can you feel how I'm aching to be inside of you?" Bucky asked, dragging his teeth roughly across his shoulder.

"Yes, baby. I want you so bad."

Bucky reached for the bottle and felt the blond stop him.

"Let me," he said, taking it from his hands. The younger man groaned, pressing his forehead into his neck as he coated his erection, Steve’s slick hands sliding up and down his length.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bucky asked, checking in again and swallowing hard as he tried to control his breathing. "We don-"

"I'm sure," Steve began, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes. "Don't worry, it will be perfect, everything with you is."

Bucky’s eyes closed and he shook his head. "How do you do that? Make even this romantic?" he murmured, a smile in his voice. 

"I love you so much," Steve murmured against his parted lips. Their tongues slid together as he closed the distance between them. Their kiss deepened, their soft moans filling the room. He sucked the blond’s bottom lip between his, the taste of him still on his tongue.

"Need you so much," Steve said breathlessly. "Please."

"Where do you want me," Bucky panted between kisses, his need to be inside of him becoming desperate.

"Behind me."

Bucky helped him get situated, arranging the pillows on the bed and moving him in front of himself. The brunet kissed along his shoulders, his pulse beat wildly beneath his lips as his hips pushed back against him. Steve leaned forward, his hands and knees on the mattress, the pillows stacked beneath him.

He looked so fucking beautiful like this, bent over and waiting for him, and he couldn't keep his hands from moving hungrily over his skin. Bucky leaned forward and brushed his lips along his spine, applying more lube to both of them and positioning the tip against Steve’s entrance.

Bucky’s body was trembling, whether in fear or anticipation, he wasn't sure.

"This is going to be all you, baby. You're in charge so push back into me as slowly as you need."

He nodded, his muscles flexing in his back and his ribs expanding under the brunet’s hands as he breathed in deeply and pressed back against him.

They both gasped as he entered him slightly. Steve tensed and he gripped his hips, stopping him.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, his voice shaking with the strain of not thrusting into him. He brushed his lips along his back.

"I'm fine," Steve began. "Don't stop."

"Just promise me you'll tell me if I hurt you," Bucky pleaded, the thought of causing the blond pain worse than the idea of suffering it himself.

"I promise."

The brunet ran his hands up and down his back, biting his lip as he moved, conscious of every millimeter of skin as it slipped inside of him. The feeling was exquisite, the tightness more than he ever expected. He felt pressure and Steve paused, his shoulders shaking slightly as the head slipped inside.

His hands twisted in the sheets, a shaky moan escaping from between his lips. Sliding his hands along his waist, Bucky reached between his legs, stroking his dick to help him relax.

"Are you okay? Steve?" Bucky was terrified that he was hurting and not telling him, that he would cause himself pain to give the brunet pleasure. They had been working up to this, but what if it wasn't enough?

"God, Buck. You feel…"

"Steve, baby? Please, are you hurting?"

Steve shook his head, surprising Bucky by pushing back again, his cock slipping deeper inside of him. Bucky bit his lip to keep from crying out, the feeling, the sight, the moment almost too much.

The younger man shook as he watched himself move into him, his shaft disappearing within him body inch by inch.

"Fuck, Steve. The way you feel…the way this looks…"

"I know," he began, his voice husky and full of lust. "I just…give me a second."

Leaning forward, careful to not push into him any deeper, Bucky massaged his back, his arms, doing whatever he could to help relax the blond.

"Baby, you're doing so good," he whispered between kisses. 

"So good," he moaned, the words so quiet Bucky had to strain to hear them. "I never knew…I was a little overwhelmed."

The brunet exhaled deeply, pressing his forehead against his shoulder.

Steve moved again and Bucky couldn't stop the groan as his ass came to rest flush against his hips.

"Oh, God," he groaned, rolling his hips slightly.

"Tell me how it feels," he asked, his body pulled taut.

"I feel," Steve moved forward experimentally and pushed back, his dick once again filling him completely. "I feel…consumed."

"I know," Bucky whispered. The closeness of being joined with him like this was nearly overtaking him.

"Move in me, Bucky," he murmured, rocking his hips against him. "Please."

Bucky obeyed and moved slowly at first, his motions hesitant, wanting for Steve to lead the way. He rocked against the brunet with purpose, each thrust becoming quicker, taking him impossibly deeper.

"Touch me," he breathed as he leaned forward onto his forearms. Bucky’s hands roamed his body, his fingers gripping his hips tightly, teasing his nipples. They both groaned each time he entered him again, a symphony of words and moans filling the room.

"Gonna come, baby. I can’t hold on. You look so good…you feel… Fuck." Bucky watched himself slip in and out of him. "You are mine, Steve. Now every part of you is mine."

Steve nodded, his muscles beginning to tighten around him as Bucky pushed in with slightly more force.

"I need more," he moaned. "I need to feel you. To see you."

Steve gasped in objection as Bucky pulled out. He carefully flipped the blond over and moved over him again. He coaxed Steve to wrap his legs around his hips and Bucky situated himself to slowly enter him again. 

"Is this better?" Bucky asked, their eyes meeting as he sunk in fully. His hand snaking down to wrap around the blond’s leaking cock. 

He groaned loudly and nodded, Bucky kissed along his neck and whispered into his ear. "You feel so good,” Bucky whispered, his hand finding a rhythm as he stroked him. "I love that I'm the only one to ever know this with you, that I'm the only one you've shared this with."

Steve sighed heavily, their bodies moving together, the sound of rustling sheets accompanying their soft pants.

"Say something," he pleaded, his hands reaching up to thread into his brown hair.

"Nu va fi niciodată altul pentru mine. Doar tu," Bucky said softly into his ear. "There will never be another for me, Steve. Only you."

His cock jumped in Bucky’s grasp, drooling from the slit as Steve neared his peak. "Steve," he gasped, every thought focused on the exquisite pleasure building inside of himself. His thrust became deeper and his fist moved quicker over the blond’s dick. "Please come. I can't…I'm…I'm-"

Steve called his name, his body tightening as he began to spill over the brunet’s fist. At that, Bucky could not hold out for any longer and he tensed, his cock surging as he came inside of him, murmuring his name over and over against his skin.

Time seemed to stop, Bucky’s eyes closed, his head began to spin. He slumped against the mattress and the brunet collapsed onto him.

"Bucky," he sighed. He kissed his cheek; his skin warm, his expression content.

The brunet’s head cleared enough for him to reach for the towel near the bed and clean them up before pulling him to himself.

"Thank you for trusting me," he said quietly into his hair.

"I trust you more than anything," he whispered, his lips brushing along Bucky’s shoulder. He seemed to be hesitating, wanting to say something. The younger man leaned to kiss him, encouraging him. "Bucky?"

"Mmmm?" He murmured. Curling into the blond’s side, his head on his chest.

"Have you…have you done that before?" His sudden uncertainty a vast change from just minutes before.

Bucky pulled away, looking into his eyes as he shook his head.

"Never."

He smiled and his heart skipped a beat.

"So, this was the first time for both of us?" Steve searched his face, expectantly.

Bucky nodded, unable to see his smile and not return it.

"Thank you."

And Bucky knew exactly what he meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this fic! We made it to the end, which is a nice happy ending after a long and complicated journey for these two. If you enjoyed this fic, let me know in the comments and I may make this a series and add a sequel.


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